Beyond Death
by Arobow
Summary: Angel left with the arm during season 2. Now Angel thinks Buffy is dead. And Buffy thinks Angel is dead. Huh.
1. Goodbyes

"But it's my birthday..."

The quiver in her voice constricted his chest and pulled painfulyl on his heartstrings. Angel knew just how much it meant to her, especially after her father had abandoned her--now he was doing the same.

But he blocked out all those thought, he had to take the arm to keep her safe. That was all that mattered.

Buffy stood helpless and heartbroken at the events unfolding. For the very first time since she became the Slayer, her birthday was supposed to be completely and absolutely perfect. It was supposed to the have the perfect party, the perfect cake and no matter what the baddies threw at her, it was supposed to be just...perfect.

That could never happen if Angel wasn't there.

Everything blurred and suddenly they were on the docks, soaking in each other's presence. Buffy fought back tears and for all his resolve, she knew that Angel was in a similar condition. And that knowledge was enough to take just one more step.

One more step to leaving him.

Buffy bit her lip._ Don't cry. Don't cry._

As if sensing she needed a distraction, Angel stopped and turned to face her. He fumbled in his pocket and brought out a ring.

"I wanted to give you this..." Angel revealed a claddagh ring in the dim dock lights. "The hands represent friendship, the crown represents loyalty, and the heart...well, you know."

Buffy smiled through her tears.

"Wear it with the heart pointing towards you, it means you belong to someone." He held out his own hand, "Like this."

Buffy put it on, doing everything she could to memorize the bittersweet moment. The emotions coursing through them cemented their bond and Buffy suddenly broke down all pretenses, jumping into Angel's arms, sobbing.

"How will I know I'll ever see you again? That you won't be killed? That we'll ever have the chance to..." she stopped realizing what she was about to say.

"...to what?" Angel asked gently.

She sniffled, "Well, if you haven't noticed, someone pretty much always wants us dead."

"Don't say that! You're a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for," Angel looked straight into her eyes. "You'll make it."

"But you don't know that! Wh--"

"--You never know your strength until you're tested. Don't forget that," Angel told her. At the frightened look that lingered on her face he sighed and pulled her against him.

"Don't worry, beloved. If you weren't strong, then how would we be together again?"

Buffy beamed up at him at the endearment and opened her mouth to reply, when suddenly, she felt half a dozen or so vampires.

At his love's frown, Angel was about to ask about it when he sensed them too. Not moving from their intimate position, they appeared as if they were unaware of the approach.

"I count six," Buffy whispered as they touched foreheads.

Angel's brow furrowed, ticking her own, "I think there's one more sulking in the back. Probably after the arm."

"Why don't you grab the arm, stow it, then come help me distract the remaining baddies?" Buffy suggested nuzzling up to his neck.

"Be careful," the vampire cautioned, kissing the top of her head, "Test that will to live, tonight."

She flashed him a confident smile, "Always.

One last, lingering kiss and Angel grabbed the box before darting on board the freighter. He staked a vamp that was loosening some ropes before safely storing the box under some floorboards.

Then he raced back to Buffy and the fight she was engaged in. She had three vampires remaining so she didn't notice one vamp with glasses that was slinking around the shadows.

But Angel did. He was about to pound some information out of the wimpy looking demon, when a yelp brought his attention back to his slayer who was now battling one less vampire than before. But the two had the upper hand and without a second thought to Glasses-Boy, he leapt into the fray, quickly taking out one, leaving the other to the more than capable hands of Buffy.

Realizing that now was the time to leave, Angel cast one last look at his love, gracefully battling the forces of darkness. If ever he had to choose, that would be the way he'd remember her. He stayed to watch from his position on board, just until he saw her dust her opponent. Then he ducked back under. "Goodbye," he whispered, and didn't turn back. It wasn't until after the sun had risen into the sky and the freighter was miles from the little town of Sunnydale did he remember about the slinking vampire watching the fight.

* * *

"Angel! Angel!"

Buffy was frantic. What if the other vampires had gotten to him? She remembered him yelling, pulled down by a vampire...

From the shadows Dalton watched with fascination, glad the Slayer was too distressed to notice or care about his presence.

He couldn't have died, could he? Angel wouldn't let a mere fledgling take him down, would he? But what other explanation could there be? Where else could he go? Enlightenment struck her like lightning. The ship.

Buffy closed her eyes and probed the ship. With a breath of relief she calmed down. She could feel him.

I have half a mind to go in and yell at him for making me worry so much! she thought furiously. But she wouldn't. She wouldn't because she knew it was his way of saying goodbye and he would soon be back.

"I'll miss you, Angel. Come back soon," she whispered into the night, then slowly made her way to a suddenly much less inviting party.

Dalton watched the Slayer leave with a number of things on his mind. He had just gotten some sinfully valuable news, but he doubted even that would save his life. So instead of reporting to Spike and getting severely torture before dying, he began to make his own plan.

* * *

"So Angel has departed I take it?"

Buffy looked up at her watcher and almost smiled at how completely out of place he looked against the backdrop of the Bronze.

"Yeah, that ship has sailed," she quipped unenthusiastically. "Happy birthday to me."

"Yeah! So, who wants some cake?" Xander asked, half of said cake already smeared on his face.

"Xander!" Willow hissed, jabbing him in the ribs.

"Ow!" he muttered rubbing his side. "What'd I say?"

His only response was a glare from both Cordelia and Willow.

Buffy looked around at the dying party and said, "Uh, no thanks guys, about the cake and everything. I, um, I think I'll just go home. It was a pretty tiring day, Angel and I took out half a dozen vamps on recon duty for the box. But thanks for the party, it meant a lot to me."

Everyone watched the birthday girl walk morosely out the door and into the night.

"Poor Buffy," Wilow murmured sadly.

"Y-yes, I can imagine what she's going through," Giles said, rubbing his glasses.

"I don't think you can."

And by the stage Ms. Calendar watched everything with guilt plastered all over her face.

* * *

So...what'd you guys think? I wasn't sure if I should do a one shot fic, it would be pretty long, hence my first chapter posted now. Already I'm at 4000 words or so and I haven't even reached the half way mark. What do you guys want? A loooooong fic in one sitting or in multiple chapters? I must warn you though, if you want one fic it'll be a little while longer, but I'm writing five, six pages every four days and I have a lot alreadywritten and typed. The 2nd chapter is actually ready to be posted, but I want to know what you all want first. So REVIEW the fic and tell me what you WANT! 


	2. Manipulated

**AN: **Ok, normally I don't do this, break up the story and write notes at the beginning I mean. But this is important. This is where it gets good. Some stuff happens, the plot thickens, all that good stuff. That means I really need to get a lot of feeback on this chapter because it is essentially the heart of the story and if you guys don't like it, then I should just take the whole rest of the words that I have and trash 'em. I'll have the traditional AN at the bottom, but I really need feedback for this chapter. Thanks.

* * *

Did you read the AN?

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You didn't read it, did you?

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Go READ IT!

* * *

It was an odd night. A few hours past sunset found the Slayer sitting on a tombstone, the soles of her shoes rhythmically banging against the concrete under her. Nothing out of the ordinary. She was even gazing absently into the dark, softly singing some tune. But it wasn't the usual teen bopper, no, instead the soft strains of Sophie Zelmani drifted in the air.

"I'll remember you. You will be there in my heart. I'll remember you. That is all that I can do. And I'll remember..." the young girl's voice broke on the last note. She sniffled, feeling sorry for herself as she blinked back tears. Angel never knew that she went out the next day and bought Sophie Zelmani's CD just for that song. For the song that played when they shared their first kiss as vampire and slayer. And maybe now he would never know.

It seemed as all she could do was think about Angel. When was he coming back? Hadn't he had enough time to bury that stupid box and come racing back to her? He'd been gone for a while...Buffy checked the watch she had taken to wearing...ok, so maybe she could give him more than two days.

She sighed and hummed the notes, thinking hard. There was some good to the situation, she tried optimistically. At least there was no danger of the Judge rising. Her nightmares went from Angel being staked by Drusilla to Angel dying, suffering far away, calling for her help. She would always run to save him, but arrive just in time to see him crumble at her fingertips.

Somehow she didn't feel quite as buoyant as she had hoped.

Her inner musings distracted her just enough for a particularly vicious vampire to sneak up on her undetected. He tackled her, took one swipe, and then ran off.

Buffy lay on the ground, completely stunned. What. The. Hell!

Slayer instinct kicked in and she assessed the situation accordingly. Not a normal vamp attack, something was up, or would be really soon. She checked her injuries. There were three fairly shallow scratch marks on her chest. Why...Buffy gasped, her necklace was missing.

She gave a perfunctory look around the cemetery ground, but she knew she wouldn't find it. But why would anyone, especially a vampire, want a plain silver cross necklace? She wondered what upset her more, the fact that he had taken Angel's gift, or the hellmouth repercussions that were sure to follow.

In any case, she needed to see Giles. He would know what to do.

* * *

"I--I must admit Buffy, I'm at a loss," Giles informed her, handkerchief rubbing away.

"What?"

The Brit looked even more uncomfortable. "W--well, the standard procedure applies, of course. But I fear this is a highly irregular case, most probably a scare tactic of Spike and Drusilla i--if they are the ones behind this whole Judge ordeal." Suddenly he stopped and whipped off his glasses, "Actually, she does have some verifiable psychic powers and may have read into your distress relating to Angel."

Despite the bad news of Spike and Drusilla being alive, Buffy relaxed a little more. At least now she knew what she should be looking out for.

So, while Giles continued with the standard procedure, Buffy plopped down on a chair, letting her thoughts flow to the place they inevitably ended up.

* * *

Angel was lucky. The barge was making a stop at Seattle before continuing on to Hawaii. He could feed and take another ship to Alaska, maybe go so far as the arctic.

A much paler, thinner vampire glided off the boat and headed to a phone booth to look for the nearest butcher shop.

In truth, Angel was worried. It had been a mere five days since he left Her, but already his demon had gotten more savage in the absence of his mate. Oh, Angel still refused to bite humans, but his face almost changed at the thought of some human blood alone.

He clutched the box tighter, as if to remind himself of his purpose, and strengthened his resolve. To the butcher's it was.

Angel trekked in the direction the phone book suggested, half by street signs and half by smell. When he finally reached the building that positively reeked of death, he stopped. But before he opened the door, he felt the presence of a few vampires inside.

Immediately he was on guard. Setting the arm safely behind a few boxes leaning against the building, he crept inside.

Three vampires loosely circled the cowering butcher who was too terrified to move.

Right in front of his face was Glasses-Boy, growing around a mouthful of fangs.

Angel jumped out of the shadows and staked the nearest vampire. Surrounded by blood, fear, and violence, he had his game face on and the poor butcher turned so white Angel feared he would faint.

"Run!" Angel barked. The man's very obviously racing heartbeat and thick blood made him drag his full attention on the three remaining vamps.

The stumbling mortal sputtered before racing off as fast as he could.

Glasses-Boy had already forgotten about him and instead smiled nervously at Angel. "I was hoping to find you there."

"That would be a lot more convincing if your knees weren't shaking," Angel bit out, the bloodlust in the air putting him on edge. He smirked when the fledgling actually looked down at his knees.

"Look," the younger vampire ordered, even more scared, "I'm not here to take the box like you think."

By now Angel had reverted completely into Angelus mode. It wasn't just easier; it was the most effective way of dealing with this much younger vampire. Thank god it was, he wasn't sure if his control could handle his demon right now. So, Angel shot him a classic Angelus leer, "Oh? Then why are you here?"

The casual demeanor the master vampire exuded scared Dalton far more than Spike's threats ever could. "I-I-I, uh, came to tell you th-that, um," he took a deep breath and blurted "That Spike k-killed the slayer."

The vampire on his right was strong, but stupid and ignored the look in Angel's eyes as he took his cue. "I did it," he boasted, holding aloft a bloodied necklace, proudly wearing the burn mark it left.

All pretences dropped. Angel roared, lunging for the foolish vamp. One slash mutilated the entire front of his body and in the next second, he ripped off his head.

The silver necklace fell to the floor with a muted 'clink!', landing in the demon's ashes.

Still in a rage, Angel whirled around searching for anyone, anything to release his pain on. Glasses-boy and the remaining minion had already stolen away and the shop was empty.

Suddenly very aware of the cartons and cartons of blood that were piles around him, Angel only had time to growl before his fangs ripped into the feeble container. He had gone through half a box of the cartons before his hunger was sated and he quickly came to his senses.

Drowning in sorrow, he leaned against the nearest wall, closed his eyes, and let out a sob.

Despite all the blood and chaos around him, he could still pinpoint Her blood on Her necklace. One that he knew She wouldn't have just handed over.

Never in his entire life had he felt such pain, such bone deep agony that his soul ached. He didn't know how long he sat there, feeling his heart break when he felt the pain intensified. His eyes flew open when he realized that the pain was physical. It was as if a huge weight dropped on him, crushing, squeezing him. It was like his whole body was being forced into the shell of a walnut and just when he thought he couldn't take anymore, it stopped.

In the back of his mind, beneath the more devastating news, he wondered why he hadn't felt her die. He always thought, always liked to believe he was Buffy's soul mate, that they had some deep connection. Now he was proven right and now he wished he wasn't.

Blood and tears dripping off his face, he slowly walked to the middle of the room, picked up the cross, and gripped hard against the burning.

His face was a mask. There were no more tears.

There was no more anything.

* * *

Another late night Scooby meeting in the library. They were a lot more frequent now, two weeks since Angel had left.

For the past few days the gang had been making with the research; even Buffy was helping.

One night on patrol, nine days ago, she had been driven to her knees from a unknown force and something inside her screamed in agony.

Giles was convinced some demon with "higher mental capabilities" was massing an attack, but Buffy wasn't so sure.

She was deathly afraid that it had something to do with Angel, that he was hurting somewhere.

So here they all were, researching different psychic demons, not sure what they were looking for with a slayer who was doing her best to conceal the fact she didn't care about demons.

Willow sighed.

Xander hid another yawn. "Wow, this is bor--"

The door swung open admitting a lone and pretty wimpy vampire.

The lazy atmosphere changed in an eye blink. Giles fumbled for a crossbow, Buffy jumped up and whipped out a stake.

The vamp help up his hands and whined, "H-hey, I'm only delivering a message."

Buffy narrowed her eyes and her anger increased. "You're the cat burgling excuse for a vamp," she accused.

He smiled nervously, "I'm Dalton. I was Spike's minion, but he lied and left us all for dead. I'm the only one who survived the attack..."

Buffy felt her dread grow. "Attack against who?"

Dalton hesitated for a moment before answering. "Angelus."

Buffy felt faint. "What happened to him?"

"He died taking out nineteen vampires. I--hold on," Dalton ran out the door.

Everyone was too shocked to care. Especially Buffy. They were indifferent even when he came back with the box. Dalton glanced at it as if he thought the arm inside would jump out and strangle him. When he spotted it outside the warehouse he thought it was the perfect prop to use in his little charade, but the evil vibes it had been giving off on the journey back had grown and he was very happy to hand it over. "I, um, I thought you might want this." He leaned the wooden case against a wall.

"Why?"

The demon looked up at the coldest eyes he had ever seen in all his undead life. "I want to get back at Spike," he responded.

The Slayer's face darkened. "Oh, he'll pay."

The vampire smiled in relief. "Then my work is done." He was halfway out the door when the slayer called out.

"Dalton."

"Yes?" he turned around.

Ash burst onto the floor and the slayer owned one less stake. "Thanks."

For all her steady words and cool appearance, all that was flashing through her mind was, Angel is dead. Angel is dead.

Dalton's death created the tiniest ping of satisfaction, but as a whole, all her entire being felt was pain.

"I'm going home," she announced quietly.

Giles smiled softly in understanding, allowing his charge at least one night off. At least one.

Xander, however, offered no such mercy. "But, what about the demon attack? Are you just going to ignore it because Dead-Boy kic--"

"--there is no threat. What I felt was Angel's soul being crushed."

With that the girl walked calmly out of the room. No one knew exactly what to say.

Giles and Xander were both completely floored by this telltale sign as to the depth of the pair's relationship. Although the most knowledgeable of the three, Willow was a little surprised herself; though it certainly made sense.

"Poor Buffy," Willow whispered.

Xander had enough sense not to say anything more. Giles marveled at the scientific ramifications, but was also thinking along the same lines as Willow.

"Yes, dear lord, I can't imagine the depth, how power the---the, um,"

"We get it Giles," Willow smiled understandingly. She knew he wasn't talking about actual bond between the two.

Xander said nothing, but looked uncharacteristically serious, thinking hard on something.

Buffy exchanged words with her mom, making up one easy lie after another. It didn't matter; she couldn't even remember what she said.

Did it matter? Did any of it matter? Angel was dead and nothing seemed to matter anymore.

She kept her emotions locked up tight because she knew if she let it out, she'd never stop. She couldn't afford that, not when she had Spike to kill. After that...well, after that it just didn't matter.

She lay down to sleep and tried not to think, not to feel anything anymore.

* * *

Sorry if the beginning was a little obnoxious, but I needed to do that. Anyway, a lot of you guys seemed to think that I was just going to stop after the first chapter, only a few of you commented on the actual question. But it's cool because obviously I'm going with multiple chapters and I'm only going to stop at the second chapter if you guys don't like it. I do thank you all for reviewing though, it just makes it all so much better knowing the B/A spirit's out there. Also that people think my writing doesn't suck is a major plus. So. **REVIEW** and get more chapters! The third is ready to post, so it's up to you guys. **REVIEW!**


	3. Coping

"Buffy!"

Angel shot up in cold sweat.

Every night. He rubbed his tired eyes and knew he couldn't have gotten more than an hour of sleep. He just couldn't sleep anymore, not when her sad hazel eyes haunted him everywhere he went. Tonight they were on the docks, whispering their goodbyes, oblivious to the approaching vampires. One loosed the ropes and a huge net of cargo swooped down on them. Buffy pushed him out of the way, but fell victim to the large load herself. The last thing he saw was the betrayed look on her face.

The noise of work from outside jolted him back to reality. It sounded as though they were nearing the destination. Angel heaved a weary sigh and sat up. This one last stop for supplies put him somewhere in Northern California. It brought him closer to the memory.

Going back to Sunnydale wasn't even an option. He couldn't do that, maybe a year later he would have the strength to call Giles. He didn't think he had the strength to visit and immerse himself in all he had left of Her.

So the question now posed was: go to Hawaii and try as hard as he could to get over her, or give in to the yearning in his heart and forever live in the shadow of what they could've had. Could he get over Her? Even with half an ocean in between?The voices of the first mate and captain filtered though the thin wooden floor a few hours later. From what he could tell, they were going to set sail in a few minutes,

Indecision raged within him. The smart thing to do would be to leave, to heal the wounds that pained him. But he didn't want to. God, he didn't want to. However unhealthy this obsession could be, Angel wanted nothing more than to be as close as he could.

One minute now. They just had to secure the cargo.

Panic rose up in his throat. This was a thousand times worse than any decision he had to make in battle. This was rational, logical, but at the same time completely open. This was a battle between his head and his heart and no amount of time was enough to find the answer.

Could he let her go?

Ten seconds, nine, eight...

Turmoil more fierce than the gray waves pounding on the side of the ship smashed his battered heart. His thoughts raced through his head frantically now. Somewhere in the back of his mind he realized the men were out of the cargo hold and now on deck.

Would she want him to go? To leave her in the past and move on?

_Could he let her go?_

One...zero.

The anchor was up, everything was set and they had set sail. Time was up and he could go back, even if he wanted to.

At the first lurch, his heart twisted and all but disappeared.

Screw this, he thought, before rushing out on deck and running across the slippery surface. He ignored angry shouts and concentrated on the pier. The pier that was moving away from him at a startling rate.

Angel took a deep breath and leapt with everything he had in him.

Touchdown.

The vampire heaved a huge sigh of relief. He really wasn't sure about that one, but as soon as his feet hit the edge he knew that he had made the right choice. He could never let her go. Not ever.

"So what next?" he wondered out loud.

What next indeed.

He couldn't go to Sunnydale. That would be too hard. Besides, his demon had grown exponentially more savage and he didn't trust it near the hellmouth. Angel really didn't know if he had the strength to even leave the state, but where did that leave?

"You Angel?"

The man in question turned around to find a shorter, odd mad with a thick Irish accent. Angel took a whiff of him and immediately knew he wasn't human. Not completely anyway. A second sniff found the stranger to be half demon and a faint odor of cheap whiskey clung to him. Well, he was Irish.

"Depends on who's asking," the vampire answered. He didn't seem to be a threat, but it never hurt to be cautious.

The half breed didn't respond, but merely studied his face intently.

Angel was about to bark out an irritated "What?" when the look of concentration passed and was replaced with an easy grin.

"Name's Doyle. I was, er, sent here by the Powers That Be." Something in the way he said it made Angel feel as though Doyle wasn't entirely happy about his situation. "I was sent to guide you do your destiny or whatever." Definitely not happy. "Ugh, if I'm more grouchy than usual it's because you and that slayer have a painfully long history. And I mean literally painful. Took a whole bottle of the good stuff before my head stopped banging. Then I got a terrible hangover."

At the uncomprehending and slightly angry star, Doyle clarified a little. "Visions of mine are usually accompanied with a bottle of whiskey and aspirin. The Powers don't have any problems sending mind-numbing, head melting headaches to messengers."

Poor kid, he probably didn't even ask for the gig. That was how the Powers worked.

"So, where are we going?" Angel asked.

Doyle was surprised at his assignment's easy compliance. They didn't normally give him an easy one and this vampire with a soul deal didn't exactly look like the pushover type. "The City of Angels, where else?"

Angel nodded mutely, and followed the demon. He should've been surprised at his surrender as well, but he stopped caring. If this guy was here to guide him to his destiny, so be it. His destiny died and took his soul with it. He only lived because he hadn't redeemed himself enough to take it away.

She would want him to help and he couldn't let her go.

I'm not ready to let this be just a memory, he thought fiercely.

"The City of Angels it is."

* * *

They weren't going to be happy. 

This was the fourth night in a row she had bailed on bronzing. She hadn't been back there since That Night. Once she ran out of feeble excuses and they practically ordered her to come, she just skipped it in the name of slayage. Willow gave her sympathetic looks, but she wanted to talk, and Buffy couldn't do that. Not about this. About Him. Giles was almost more understanding than Willow because he was more removed from her social life; hell, now he practically _was_ her social life.

Giles offered her nights off, suggested she ease up at times, showed that he worried, but didn't push.

But Xander seemed not to even notice He was gone. On the contrary, he was cheerier than ever. Or maybe that was his way of acknowledging His absence. His constant hints and harsh attitude that was more characteristic of his girlfriend was slowly grating her nerves.

Buffy was reading up on Spike, Giles happily cross referencing in his office when Xander and Willow came barging in. Or rather Xander came barging in and Willow came in more quietly.

"Buffy! You blew us off again!" Xander yelled.

Buffy just shrugged and said, "I was tired and needed to do some research." She held up the book for emphasis.

The boy's eyebrows shot up, "Bull! You were just avoiding us again, stuck in Mopey-Buffy Mode!"

When the cry of "Xander!" didn't come from Willow, Buffy realized that her best friend must've been annoyed with her too.

The slayer heaved a huge sigh and acquiesced to her friends' demands. "Alright. I'll go tomorrow night. It's Friday, how could I miss a party like that?"

They seemed to accept her pathetic excuse for a smile and immediately started making plans about their fun evening.

From his office, Giles watched his charge lose the smile when the duo wasn't looking.

* * *

Buffy was positively harassed. 

In between Willow and Xander's not-so-subtle pushes towards dancing and therefore fun, and the barrage of mental images that spouted from practically every thing she saw, it did not make for one happy Buffy. It didn't help she felt like the third wheel, or rather fifth wheel. Xander and Cordelia, Willow and Oz, Buffy and...

She choked back a sob and found her exit in the form of a vamp stalking a freshman.

Buffy followed them out and dispatched of it easily. Then she headed back to the library rather than the Bronze. Screw her fun or what her friends wanted.

A full fifteen minutes later, the whole Scooby Gang stormed into the library. Everyone looked angry, with the exception of Oz who didn't look like he was feeling anything, but Xander was livid.

"What the hell are you trying to pull, Buffy? You're blowing off your friends, you spend all your time researching God knows what, and you're a completely different person than the Buffy I knew! Dead-Boy is dead, gone; he kicked the bucket, so what? You move on, get over it! You don't shut yourself off and ignore the people who care about you!"  
The rant left Xander panting and glaring.

Buffy got up, glowering. "That care about me? What you found out that Angel died you almost broke into song! You never respected Angel or my relationship with him! Is that what a caring friend does? Even after he proved himself to everyone, after he saved your life a few times, you still hated him."

"I didn't want you to get hurt!"

"By who?" Buffy asked disbelievingly, "By Angel? He would never--"

"--And look at you now! He did that! He killed the Buffy we trust with our lives! And I'm glad that he's gone! Because now he can't hurt any of us more than he already has. Just look at you! You're miserable, you don't smile, you don't have fun, you spend all your time in Buffy-land where nobody else can reach you! Angel was a monster and you're right, I'M GLAD HE'S DEAD! Maybe his ashes will help some flowers grow, then he'll finally be really helping something."

Buffy snapped.

He didn't even see it coming. No one did. One second Xander was screaming at the top of his lungs, the next thing anyone knew he was against the checkout desk, across the room.

"Let me make this very clear to you Xander," Buffy said calmly and slowly. "Angel was a bigger person than you can even imagine. He has saved more lives this year of his life than you could possible _see_ in all of yours. Nothing anyone can ever say, in any language, could ever, EVER make me feel something even _remotely _close to sad about meeting him. If I had to pick between the two of you, between the selfless man who risks everything for nothing in return, or you, the bratty little boy with gross emotional problems and the EQ of a tree, three guesses as to who'd be the winner.

"You don't get it Xander. I felt his soul being crushed. I could _feel_ it, and let me tell you, in all my years as a slayer NOTHING was as painful as that; knowing he was going through the same pain. But even after all that Angel is still the most incredible thing that will ever happen to me and if you say ONE more thing about him, I swear to God you won't have an arm."

The ice cold look in her eyes said all he needed to know. She was dead serious.

And no one said anything.

Buffy held the glare long enough for Xander to have it forever burned into his memory then slowly, deliberately, walked to the door. Before pushing it open, without turning around, she softly said, "Sorry, Giles."

And then she left.

* * *

I just have to say I have wanted to scream at Xander like that for _ages._ Seriously, ever since Dead Man's Party where he chews her out, I wanted to just smackthat boyupside the head, I hope this proved adequate. I'm rather fond of it. Basically I wanted to publically humilate Xander in front of as many people as I could seeing as how I _did_ want more reviews, but I'm getting spoiled. I'm really quite flattered by the tally so far **THANKS** to all those that put in the time and effort not only to write the reviews, but to write something more than, "Good job." It was very nice to hear all of your thoughts, but please **REVIEW** this chapter and I'm not adverse to some constructive criticism. I hope the breaks are enough, I can't figure out how to create a larger gap between scenes without writing something in the middle which I refuse to do, so if anyone has any tips...? Oh, right, one more thing, **REVIEW!**


	4. Soothing

"Call it home."

Angel looked around at the dilapidated room. Centuries of experience had granted him the ability to look beyond the dust and grime and see what a room could really become. Or at least he had the tolerance to ignore a number of sarcastic remarks.

Methodically, he evaluated the space, then took the old, but reliable elevator downstairs. One look and he knew that the office was beyond perfect for a reclusive vampire such as himself. He said as much to Doyle.

"It's your apartment, man. I still have plenty of room at my place if you don't want this dump," his companion replied.

Angel just shook his head. "No, you need your space and I think this will be just right for me."

Doyle murmured a fond goodbye and left for his own apartment.

Angel didn't respond, too intent on redecorating. It wasn't that he didn't like of the half demon; in a lot of ways, the guy reminded him of himself. It was just that he didn't have it in him to be that close to someone.

But what was he going to do about the space? It was much bigger than the one in Sunnydale and there was no way in hell he was going back there to collect some of the few luxuries that remained. Some furniture was left by the previous owner, if the white bulges that sprinkled the room were any indication, but he couldn't very well rely on them. Or if they were even functional.

Well, he'd work something out later. First he had to get the place presentable, then he could work on the details.

"Let's get to work," he muttered to himself and began pulling off the sheets that covered all of the furniture.

Doyle cautiously made his way home. After all, it was LA at night, half breed or no.

Once he passed the seedier streets and came closer to more familiar, protected ground, he let his guard drop. He let himself think about the enigma that was Angel.

The poor guy was more depressed than a full square block of the bad part of LA, yet he still had the whole hero thing going for him. The guy gave off this vibe, like you could trust him, and Doyle learned the hard way not to trust people lightly. But something about the vampire made you feel...safe, almost. No mean feat in the heart of LA.

Angel was politely courteous to him during the trip; more than that, he went out of his way to be nice to a total stranger who uprooted his life. Yet he never tried to go past a professional relationship, he didn't seem to want a friend. He rarely ever talked and skillfully rebuked any efforts to engage in small talk of any kind. Odd guy.

But he had clearly lost his way and Doyle found himself wanting to help him...curious.

* * *

"Buffy?" her mother called hesitantly, "Your, um, your school librarian is here to see you!" Joyce Summer's confusion about the relationship between her scholastically inept daughter and an elderly British librarian was evident in her tone. But whatever their connection, she sincerely hoped he could ease her daughter's pain. Contrary to what Buffy believed, her mother wasn't completely clueless to all her doings. She may not know the details of the matter, but she could tell that her daughter was intensely sad. So when she came home earlier, practically radiating distress, she remained cautiously to the side.

"I take it you're here on more than just an overdue book?" Joyce asked good naturedly.

Giles was taken aback, too used to her seemingly perpetual state of ignorance. "Oh, ah, mm-no. I'm, uh, unfortunately I'm not."

Buffy swooped in to take over. "I had a fight with Xander and Giles just came to see if I was ok."

Her mother seemed to be having an inner struggle. "When, um, when you say y-you had a _fight_, you mean..."

Buffy's eyes grew hard. "I mean one of my best friends thought one thing and I thought another leading him to be something other than one of my best friends now."

Joyce felt compelled to step back from her daughter. When exactly had she become so worn-looking, so exhausted? How could her own mother not notice while it happened? What _exactly_ was the librarian doing here?

"Can I speak to Giles along, Mom?"

The request pulled her out of her reverie. "Oh, um," she looked at her child and was surprised to see someone so...old. "Of course. I'll just be in the kitchen if you need anything."

The pair walked up the stairs and Joyce felt both jealousy and guilt. Buffy chose to confide in _him_, but not her own mother. Immediately she was ashamed for thinking such things, She wiped the counter over and over as she continued her musings. Clearly, she hadn't provided the necessary father-figure and Buffy had gone out to find her own. Whether or not she had provided it, the important thing was Buffy had one.

Joyce sighed and wiped the faded tiles once more; she still couldn't help but wonder what the two were talking about.

* * *

Giles stood so stiffly and awkwardly in the midst of her pink room, Buffy had to smile about just how uncomfortable her watcher was in all her havens, not in the Bronze and not in her room, yet he disregarded his own comforts to console her. Or possibly yell at her. She wasn't sure which, quite yet.

"What's up, Giles?" Buffy asked quietly.

Her watcher got straight to the point. "By all accounts, I should be terribly angry with you, Buffy," he started, the handkerchief already out and his glasses whipped off.

Uh oh, big lecture coming.

"Yeah, I know. Not using Slayer powers for the good of manki--"

"--but it isn't to say the recipient didn't deserve it."

Buffy started, astonished.

Giles smiled kindly and placed his glasses back on his nose. "Xander was, um, being rash to say the least. I certainly don't begrudge you any for wanting to mourn Angel's death. He deserves to be mourned. My respect for him rivals my respect for you."

Buffy's eyes glistened with unshed tears.

"I suspect that all your friends, even Xander, will come to respect what you two had. Xander may be the most immature teenager I've met, but he's nothing if not loyal. He may yet come to his senses."

His smile was so warm and comforting that Buffy burst into tears she swore she wouldn't shed.

Giles awkwardly shushed and soother his slayer, gathering the sobbing slayer into his arms.

When Buffy finally got herself back under control, Giles instinctively knew he had barely touched the surface. The watcher didn't even pretend to understand the depth of her pain; he could never imagine how he would feel if Jenny was ripped from him. But for now, just the small relief was enough.

* * *

After Giles gave a stuttered and red-faced goodbye where Buffy hinted more than once that he visit Ms. Calendar, she went back to her room. Buffy crawled onto her bed, picked up Mr. Gordo and tried to pretend she was five again, where holding her furry pink pal healed everything. Slowly, she drifted off to sleep, still clutching the stuffed animal in a death grip.

Joyce watched her daughter toss and turn, never once letting her pig-shaped teddy bear go. The sight tugged at her heart. The misery etched on the young girl's face even in her sleep, in the only sanctuary Joyce could give her was unbearably sad.

"Sweet dreams, Buffy," she whispered quietly, carefully slipping out of the doorway.

It seemed as though she merely blinked and when she opened her eyes once more, her room was replaced with a beach.

* * *

Angel had stood by the tide for an undeterminable length of time. He just knew he had to be there. Not because of the beautiful sunset, a sight far more vivid than he could ever recall, but for...something. Suddenly, he felt the familiar awareness and turned to see Her. Silently he made his way over.

Buffy faced the sea, not willing to crush the hope that was rising in her chest. For just a few moments, she could pretend he was near. When the tingling in her stomach grew, she didn't dare turn around; not to see him crumble away.

Then his arms slid around her waist and the picture-perfect beast sunset could've been a slaughter house. It didn't matter; it was simply perfect.

"How did you find me?" she whispered, loath to break the moment.

Angel smiled his attention never once wavering from the beauty in his arms. "If I was blind I would find you."

She finally dared look up into his waiting face. "Stay with me," she murmured, caressing his face.

Her Angel smiled. "Forever. That's the whole point. I'll never leave."

Neither said another word, merely watched the sun dip into the ocean.

Buffy closed her eyes, not aware Angel's were already the same and breathed in deeply, taking in the combined smell of the ocean and Angel.

She looked up again and saw his eyes closed. The simple gesture warmed her broken heart. Angel hadn't seen a sunset in two and a half centuries, but when he had the opportunity, all he did was focus on the feeling of her.

Angel could feel her stare, so he opened his eyes to gaze adoringly down at his slayer.

Her soft smile held so much emotion and he could only respond by pulling her closer and burying his face into her hair. He gently peppered kisses up to her crown where he simply laid his head on the top of her head and socked in their small oasis of peace.

The last of the sun's rays disappeared behind the dark purple-blue water and they knew their time had come to a close.

Angel reluctantly pulled away from his heaven and gave her a reassuring smile.

Buffy returned it, even as she felt his hands grow more immaterial with each passing second.

They communicated without words; none were needed. Just one, last look as the surroundings faded into gray, as they slowly dissolved and the perfect dream ended.

* * *

Well, this chapter isn't quite as long as I like my chapters to be, but it'll do. Well, I have now decided that I shall recieve **10 reviews** for each chapter! ...please? That would just make my fanfiction career experience complete. I want to thank all the people that did review, I shall be posting the next chapter up in a few days, it's all written out and if you guys have any suggestions (though I mostly have the storyline all figured out) then I'd be happy to take them into consideration! Hope you all like this chapter and **THANKS** for all the **REVIEW**s that all of you wrote, they were so great!


	5. Waking

Angel smiled lazily and reached out next to him, only to find nothing but his cold, silk sheets. He bolted into a sitting position, but only the half unpacked dark was there. Where was...?

The vampire slumped. A dream. Of course it was a dream. He let his proverbial heartbeat slow and lay back down.

The dream was so vivid, so _real_. It had surround sound as She would put it. There he goes again, thinking about things he could never have again. But then, he didn't really believe he'd ever stop.

Angel smiled unconsciously at the memory. Dream or not, it felt real and it was one of his innermost fantasies. Basking in the golden glow of the sun all the while holding his more personal ray of light in his arms.

He chuckled, when exactly had he gotten so sappy? Wouldn't the underworld like to know the infamous Angelus was waxing poetry and mooning over sunlight and slayers? His mouth quirked; and he wouldn't have it any other way.

The pain and guilt he felt was a hundred times more intense than when he first regained his soul, but did he regret any of his actions other than leaving? Did he really..."

Well, certainly Angel would have wished to consummate the marriage, or even just the opportunity to_ tell_ Her what those rings meant. But what we had, Angel thought, what we had couldn't be regretted for the world.

He stared wistfully at the ceiling as he recalled those late nights spent with his love. Her favorite movie was The Princess Bride, the innocence of which made him fall in love with her all over again. The happily ever after fairy tale with the black clad hero and honorable fights reminded him that his slayer was still a young girl. She still believed in some of that, in the honor of a duel or that everything would work out. He no longer believed in that, but now, he wasn't quite as jaded as before. Because of Her. Of course a dozen or so viewings later, he wasn't quite as enthusiastic as before.

But the result of such religious viewing cemented one quote into his mind: "Death cannot stop true love. All it can do is delay it for a while." To be fair, he also had, "My name is Inigo Montoyo. You killed my father, prepare to die," as well, but the first seemed more relevant to the situation.

The look in that young slayer's eyes when she watched the unlikely story unfold and the wistful smiles that tugged at her lips he noticed when she thought he wasn't looking was something that he could never ever forget. Another twinge of pain pulled at him as Angel remembered just _young_ his Buffy was.

Could he really go on living his life without her by his side? Even if it was to further her cause? It was a question that had been asked a million times since her death. Obviously he always chose to help the helpless, but every moment it just seemed to get worse. He needed to come to a final decision, something he would follow no matter what. So the question was: what would She want him to do? Should he walk outside this very moment or not?

_No_, he thought doggedly, I won't face the sunrise just yet. As long as she is still lingering in my mind, battling demons for the world, I will continue the good fight.

When Doyle came in that day, didn't know his boss had put a serious consideration to rest, but he did note that Angel seemed less broody, something that he had been waiting for.

"I, uh, Angel, man. I gotta tell you something. I got this feeling the Powers want you to get out there more, be with the people you're trying to save," Doyle told him after noting his scowl was softer than it had been in a long while. Really, he thought, I was beginning to wonder if I should've broken it to him on the ship. Well, the scowl's back full force now.

Angel listened to Doyle's "suggestion" with growing disbelief. Did he _look _like a party person? The only response he gave the messenger was a look before going back to cleaning.

Doyle sighed, the stubborn brute. "Look, he continued, following Angel around the apartment, "You can't play the dark hero all the time, appear and vanish and all that. You'll maybe save a few hundred lives and you'll think, what's one life after all the ones I saved? And then what? You need to be out there."

Angel slowed his work, listening to him. Would that really happen? Would he revert back to the creature he had been before? Doyle would be far more adamant if he found just how powerful the demon had grown, how strong the urges were now. Was he really a danger?

Despite outward appearances, Doyle really wasn't stupid. He knew Angel was mulling things over. He also knew Angel wasn't a moron, he had to know his limitations in order to have come as far as he had when Angel came to a decision, it wouldn't be the easy way out.

His hands were on autopilot as his thoughts took him away from the apartment moving and unpacking box after box. Maybe before, if it was only his willpower, he would have he would have been a threat. His thoughts had mixed too dangerously with the demon's for him to be in complete control all the time. But now he had Buffy's wishes with him. The thought that she left him the world that killed her brought up different feelings, but he knew that she would've expected him to care for it nonetheless. He could never let her down, even if the battle was internal. He came to a decision and the place was unpacked.

"No."

* * *

Buffy did not want to open her eyes. If she did, she'd have to face reality. She'd have to give up the gentle, familiar feeling only Angel exuded. That dream...surround sound was an understatement. Despite the impossibility of the situation, the slayer smiled at the idea of her love comforting her, even in death. 

Streaks of light beat relentlessly against her eyelids, illuminating her closed eyes with an irritating red glow. "Ungh..." Seriously, sunlight was totally over rated. Angel really wasn't missin--no! Buffy bit her lip and sat up, savagely cutting off her thoughts. She couldn't keep doing this! She had to be strong and fill her head with something other than Angel. Her eyes fell upon the open French textbook on her desk.

_So_ not the way to go.

Slaying was her best bet. I could lose myself to the rush of adrenaline pumping through my system, let myself fall victim to the primal satisfaction of the hunt, anything as basic or raw as what I feel for Angel. Felt. Past tense, she told herself.

Buffy padded to her closet and changed, not even caring if the outfit matched or whatnot. On the dresser was a few odds and ends, and a book. She picked up the paperback and gently ran a finger over the title. It was a book from the fairy tale kick she was on after actually, if some of her movie selections were any indication. Buffy stifled a giggle, the look on Angel's face when he had to watch the Prin—

DAMMIT! She sobered immediately. The book! She thought furiously.

It had to do with Robin Hood, one of her favorites. Cary Elwes, Wesley from the Princess Bride was Robin Hood in the Mel Brooks version. Well, that was hardly the typical fairy tale, but very funny to make up for it!

See, Buffy thought happily, look at that! I thought about something other than Angel for three whole minutes! But technically I'm thinking about him now. Does that count? But I _am_ still thinking about him even if it's thinking about _not_ thinking about him...

The. BOOK!

Forcing her thoughts back, her mind wandered along the paths of Sherwood. She moved to her bedroom window and turned her eyes upward. Then Buffy recalled a certain passage while she stared blankly into the blue sky.

Maid Marian wondered if a certain someone was looking at the stars, thinking of her just as she thought of him. Only my someone isn't looking into the sky dreaming of me, Buffy thought bitterly. And my poor Angel would never get the chance to look up into the sky I am now.

Time heals everything, goes the famous saying. "Does it really?" she whispered. "Or does it just get worse?"

No, she thought stubbornly, there are just some wounds that run too deep for the all purpose bandage of time to heal. All it can do is mask the pain, with time, you get better at lying.

Buffy wrapped her arms around herself, as much to ward off the chill of morning's breath as to stop the chill that seemed to come from her very bones.

Gathering up her strength, she got ready to leave the peace her room afforded her and face her mom, Willow Giles...not Xander.

The slayer's anger bubbled to the surface. After a night of sleep, she was still incredibly mad at the boy. Well, it's best not to think about it, yet another thing I have to not think about, she told herself with a touch of irony.

Think of killing Spike, then think of anything. Even Xander.

But even as she thought it, she knew that Xander wouldn't be the first thing on her mind. Not by a long shot.

* * *

The creases on Giles face deepened as he focused on the problem at hand. From the subtle glances and the numerous prods from the children, it seemed as though Ms. Calendar had forgiven him. But in light of the new situation, ever since Angel left, she had been more withdrawn from the group. 

So, naturally, it fell to him to find out what was going on, but he wanted to be objective. The Brit muttered unconsciously, pacing the length of his living room.

He stopped when he heard the knocks on his door.

"Rupert?"

Giles forced himself to calm down. He had to do this. He _could_ do this.

The librarian coolly opened the door and wordlessly invited her in.

"You wanted to see me?" Jenny asked, far more nervous than even Giles.

"Ah, um, yes. Ms. Calendar. I mean Jenny..." he started.

The computer teacher smiled uneasily, not sure where she stood. He ended with "Jenny", that's good right?

"...a-are you, um, alright? E-ever since the, the Angel situation, you have, uh, been a bit more...reserved than usual. I-is anything bothering you?"

Ms. Calendar was surprised, she was expecting him to start screaming accusations and yelling at her for her betrayal. Instead, his stuttered inquiry of her well being compounded her guilt.

"I'm fine Rupert," she answered softly. "I've just had some...family issues and even though I'm not that close, I _am_ worried about Buffy. She took Angel's death really hard."

"Yes, I am quite worried myself," Giles agreed his thoughts no longer on the tension between he and the techno pagan. "She's bordering on obsessive with Spike's murder and I'm having a hard time persuading her not to rush in on a suicide run. She's also not as, um, bouncy, as she is normally."

"She's been having nightmare," Jenny added suddenly.

Giles looked startled. "Really? Did she, uh, did she tell you this?"

Ms. Calendar didn't hide the smile that slipped onto her face. She couldn't help it, he sounded so hurt. "No, she didn't tell me, I can tell. She has dark circles under her eyes and sometimes when she zones out, her face is blank and not because she's daydreaming."

"Oh. Well, t-that does, um, that is a rather important piece of information," Giles stuttered, concentrating on keeping head from banging against the nearest hard surface. _He _was the watcher, dammit! He was supposed to detect these things!

As if Ms. Calendar could sense his self loathing, she told him, "After years of teaching high school students in front of computer screens, you learn to tell the difference between one blank, fish-eyed look from another."

Giles's face softened. "Yes, I suppose that skill would be necessary when working with those dread machines. Thank you."

"It was nothing," Ms. Calendar brushed it off casually, though she was far more pleased with those two words than she would ever admit. But the guilt of Angel's death and Buffy's misery was tearing her apart, she adored the kids and seeing Rupert like this... "Rupert I..."

"Yes?"

The look on his face was so gentle, so trusting, she couldn't bear to shatter what happiness the man had left. "...I should go," she finished lamely.

"Oh, yes. I-I um, I imagine you have some pressing engagements, I rather pulled you over here unexpectedly," Giles muttered, rubbing his glasses furiously.

The teacher hesitated. Normally, she would have been bold and one or said something that would make her fuddy-duddy turn red and flounder around, but she wasn't feeling particularly of his attentions right now.

"I'll see you at school," she said softly, then let herself out.

"Er, um, ah, Ms. Cal--Jenny? Giles called right before the door closed completely.

"Yes?" The poor man looks like he's going to have a heart attack, she thought fondly.

"A-a-are you, um. Well, what I mean is, I don't want to suggest t-that, um. Do you have planes for dinner, t-tonight?"

Even though she didn't feel as though she could accept, her self loathing didn't damper the brightness of her smile unduly. "No, I don't."

Giles cleared his throat wondering how the collar of his tweed suit had gotten so much tighter. Now that she had said yes, or rather, no, he didn't know what to say. "W-well, h-how, um, how about I take you to this, ah, this restaurant I know--"

"Why don't you come over?" Ms. Calendar suggested, beaming. "I could make you dinner and maybe watch a movie. No monster trucks, I promise."

He was sure she could hear him swallow thickly as he took in her words.

And Giles was right, she did.

"S-seven o'clock?"

Ms. Calendar grinned happily, "I'll see you then." She would never forget the way that man looked standing in his doorway, looking for all the world that he would faint at any moment.

She sat in her car and stared at her dashboard. "I have to tell him," she realized, the smile gone now. "I can't lie to him anymore."

Jenny started her car and headed to a grocery store, if she was going to tell him, she needed some damn good food.

* * *

I know that this was a rather boring chapter that didn't really have any action in it, but unfortunately it was necessary. But, to make up for it, within the next few chapters I promise to let a few new friends out to play. Anyway, a big **THANKS** to the people that **REVIEW**ed, I really REALLY appreciate it. I actually want to ask you guys how my summary is. I didn't like it before and this is the third time I've changed it, so knowing what you guys think would be really helpful! **_REVIEW!_**


	6. Revelations

His mouth was a hard line as he fought. His eyes glowed yellow and his fangs glinted sharply from the moon and his saliva. With a savage grin, he executed a roundhouse kick straight into his opponent's stomach, practically drooling over the taste of the warm blood he knew would be soon to follow.

But when his foot was merely caught, then twisted, then broken, and then flipped over his head, he figured he might be in a little more trouble than he originally thought.

"Slayer..." he hissed, trying to intimidate her, now that his right foot was useless.

Buffy whipped out a stake and plunged it through another faceless vampire, completely quip-less. She continued her patrol, attention completely focused on the hunt.

Her outfit was practical; the flexible, functional, all-black image gave her a predator edge that just wasn't there before. Somewhere in the back of her mind she noted that the last vampire had lasted a few seconds longer than she would've liked. She was getting sloppy. If she wanted to kill Spike, then she'd have to be more focused.

After making her rounds, she figured a dozen vamps in one night would have to do and went home, satisfied with the fact Spike would have to assume that his fledglings were being dusted by her, mostly because none were alive to tell the tale. Since her enhanced training, her range had grow three times what it had been before and now she had to run if she was going to catch up to her prey.

Slipping into bed with a weary yawn, Buffy closed her eyes and immediately fell into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

Xander kicked a rock off the sidewalk on his way to the Bronze. What had happened? When did Buffy, his Buffy Summers, become all too alike the things she was born to hunt? How could she actually threaten him, not only threaten him, but put Dead-Boy ahead of him? 

It wasn't my fault! All I was trying to do was show one of my best friends what is right!

No, Xander concluded, seeing the bouncer for the Bronze, it wasn't his fault. It was all because of _Angel_. It always began with him. Before _Angel_ showed up, Buffy was his girl and his alone. Ever since that demon came into the picture he had warped all her priorities, putting all of them in danger. Who was _he_ to tell Buffy who or what to save? Huh?

He wasn't anybody, the boy sniffed, handing the bouncer the five dollar cover. Where was _Angel_ when Buffy was almost killed by Amy's mom? Where was _Angel_ when that puppet came at her with a knife? No where! That's where.

His whole high school was surrounding him and the music was blaring against the sides of the room. The dark shadows and lights bouncing off the stage immediately set him at ease. No place like the Bronze.

It wasn't Buffy's fault either! Xander realized suddenly, after a few cans of Mountain Dew. She was under Angel's influence. He shouldn't be mad at her; she was just addicted to the broody demon and was now going through the effects of something like withdrawal!

He smiled happily around his fourth glass of the delicious neon yellow liquid. He would forgive Buffy and now Angel was gone and won't be able to put her under his "control" or what ever vampires do! All would be right again now that he was outta the picture and safe from the world.

"Xander!"

He swung around in his chair, spilling Mountain Dew on his shirt and almost falling from his perch. "Willoooow!" Xander gurgled happily. "My bestest buddy buddy...uh...buddy Willooooow!"

The red head marched over, Oz in tow, and threw him an accusing glare. "How many of these did you have?"

Xander looked at the green can Willow was holding and raised his eyebrows dramatically, "Hey! That's mine!" He went to grab it and his legs didn't support him, sending him crashing to the floor. "Careful, Willow, the table bites."

"Xander--"

"Let's dance!"

Xander grabbed her hand and dragged her out onto the dance floor. Willow shot her boyfriend an apologetic look and allowed herself to be towed through the sea of teenagers.

"You know, Willow," Xander started, dancing like his was full of the sugar he had just consumed, "I figured something out."

"What?" Willow asked, actually curious. Xander had been depressed for the last two days, moping around his house and listening to country music. Every time he saw the black eye, courtesy of Buffy, he seemed to get more grim. Maybe he had finally worked things out.

"I forgive Buffy. I mean, it wasn't really her fault and Angel is gone now so he can't be gone again."

Willow thought hard for a moment. Even with huge amounts of brainpower, when Xander had gone through more than two cans, what he said needed more concentration than the hardest of math problems. "You forgive Buffy?" she parroted, her voice more than hopeful.

"Yup!"

"That's great, Xander!" Willow gave him a big hug. Everything will be just like it was before, she thought happily.

Great, he thought, returning the hug, just like it was before _him_.

* * *

"Rupert, I have something that I need to tell you about my past. About me. About...dammit!" 

Jenny Calendar paced the length of her living room, fighting the urge to hit herself on the forehead. "Rupert, I need to tell you something that I should've told you earlier. Yeah, that's good." She nodded and resettled the table cloth for the seventh time. "Tell you something I should've told you earlier," she reminded herself as a tentative knock sounded throughout the room.

Jenny pulled the door open and silently admitted a very nervous Giles who fiddled with a bottle of wine.

"I thought that a bottle of wine wouldn't go amiss," Giles told her sheepishly.

"Oh! No, not at all, thank you," Jenny smiled and took the bottle from him, "I'll just go put this in ice and you can, um, wash your hands and get settled in."

Giles did as she instructed and awkwardly stood at the kitchen sink, washing his hands briskly. Jenny seemed just as nervous as he was which was odd, usually she was the calm and collected of the two. The librarian smiled, now he realized that maybe she was just better at hiding it.

The woman in question paced along the length of her kitchen, holding the bottle she took from her date tightly. "I have to tell him, I have to. Rupert, I have something to tell you. Rupert, I have something to tell you. Ok, you can do this."

Jenny breezed out of her kitchen and ushered Rupert to the table.

"J-jenny, this is all, it's too much. Y-you've done a fabulous job," Giles complemented, staring open-mouthed at the display.

"It was nothing, really," she said, unable to keep her cheeks from turning slightly pink. Maybe she did lay it on a little thick. The table cloth was the least of the food. A dozen dishes lay in the middle of the table and two full plates lay on either end. To finish off the image, a vase full of flowers that seemed to glow blue were in the middle of the table.

"Extraordinary," Giles breathed.

Jenny immediately rushed to explain the flowers. "I found, on the web, of course, that if you put a mix of some herbs, it'll give your flowers a healthy glow. I just added a little extra to the mix and my garden doesn't need any additional light."

A soft smile graced Giles's features. "Yes, I imagine it would be a spectacle, but I wasn't talking about the flowers."

Jenny looked up, startled, and blushed a deep red at the look he was giving her. "T-the, um, the food is getting cold."

Giles just gave her a knowing look and pulled out a seat for her. When she took it he moved over to his own seat and marveled at the picture that greeted him. He had the woman he loved sitting across from him, the flowers she was so proud of lit her face with a delicate glow and the food in front of him just enhanced the soothing atmosphere.

They ate in silence, Giles complimenting the food every now and then. For the watcher, the silence was unusual, usually they always had something to talk about, but he sensed that Jenny was preoccupied with something, so he didn't pry. He was right, for Jenny, the silence was almost unbearable. She knew she would have to say something soon, but just couldn't muster up enough courage.

"Shall I get the wine?" Giles asked, breaking the silence.

Jenny heaved an inaudible sigh of relief, he read her mind. "Yes, thank you. I left it in a bucket in the kitchen."

As soon as he was out of sight, Jenny collapsed bonelessly into her chair. What was she going to do? When he came back and when she had a glass or two of that wine, she would tell him. She would!

"Here you go," Giles gave her a glass and she chugged it, wincing as he felt it slide down to her stomach. She poured herself another glass from the bottle that he left in the middle of the table and sipped her second glass more slowly. When she had downed half of the glass she put it down and took a deep breath.

"Rupert, I have something I have to tell you."

"Yes?"

She took another deep breath and continued. "It's something that I should've told you a long time ago, actually. I, um, I..."

"Go on, Jenny."

"I'm not really Jenny Calendar, my family, my...people call me Janna. I'm a gypsy, part of the clan that gave Angel his soul and I was sent here to watch over him, make sure that he suffered," she blurted.

Giles didn't look so encouraging, instead a frown dominated the majority of his face. "I see."

At his tone, Jenny panicked, "But when I came here, things were so different that what I was taught! Angel turned out to be a good person, things were so much more complicated...this whole thing was so confusing. I was brought up to hate Angel and everything that he had done to my people. It was set in stone, painted in black and white, but now it's so muddled."

When Giles's expression remained stony, she desperately continued. "We're taught unwavering loyalty to our clan and our family, but for the first time in my life I thought that maybe, they were wrong. Angel was connected to Buffy and she was the Slayer, I thought if nothing else, that should sway the elders a little, but it didn't. It only hurt Buffy, and all the people that were connected to her. That's when I realized how crazy all of this vengeance was. It sucked in more and more people until there would be no one left and all that this was being done for would be forgotten.

"They thought I was going through a phase because of my new found freedom, I half-believed it too. But I fell in love with you an--"

Jenny's mouth went slack when she realized what she had just said and she ran out of the room.

Giles sat at the end of the table, absorbing all of what she had revealed and after a moment bolted out of his chair. "JENNY!"

* * *

"Angel!" 

The vampire in question was sitting in his apartment, wiping the various grime off of his extensive weapon collection.

"Angel, man, I know you're down here. Cleaning, no doubt."

Gotta hand it to the demon, he's gotten to know me pretty well.

"Angel! What did you think you were doing? I know you said you didn't want to be the touchy-feely therapist guy, and I get that, but you need to be more than just the strong silent type! You don't accpet money from people, you don't accept thanks and you don't give anything more than physical protection! I mean, even the Gem of Amara, what did you do with the one gift the Power sent your way? Huh?"

The vampire looked at him blankly, recalling the ring that was hidden under a brick in the sewers. "I destroyed it."

"_Destroy_--Angel, man, _please_ tell me you didn't destroy the most priceless item I have ever even _heard_ of!"

Angel didn't respond, just quietly picked up another weapons from the pile.

"I can't-I don't-Angel! I-well, even closer than that! That girl was being haunted by her ex, no, _pieces_ of her ex, and all you do is go in and fight the bad guy, not a pat on the back or even a quick hug for the girl! Sometimes it takes more than just defeating the demon," Doyle told him.

Angel thought back on the day, silently rubbing a particularly stubborn patch of grime.

_Melissa cowered in the bed, her eyes tightly shut, but she wasn't sleeping. Doyle was out securing the apartment and Angel had just come in through the back. _

_He watched the young woman cringing in the dark, scared of something that she should never have had to worry about. He thought back on his days as Angelus, how he preyed on the weak and this very sight would have brought so much joy to his black heart. He knew that the fear of something was just as important as the action._

_"Melissa."_

_The woman gave a start and only relaxed slightly when she saw it was Angel. "Angel, hey, um, did you need something?"_

_He hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to say what he needed. _

_"You don't need to be afraid of him anymore. I know it seems crazy, but…"_

_Angel faltered, wondering just how he would say what this young woman so desperately depended on him to provide. But he looked at her face, and suddenly the words were obvious._

_"You've survived a living hell these last few months and you're still standing, while he's coming unhinged at not being able to control you. He's the weak one. You're the strong one."_

_He hoped she could see the message in his words, in his heart. He only hoped that what comfort he could offer would go through more than just what words could convey._

_"Thanks," she told him, a hint of a smile growing on her face, "I'm not going to cry anymore. At least I hope not. I'm tired of crying and being afraid."_

_Angel just nodded and turned up the corners of his mouth. Maybe there was still hope in the world, for all of them. For him. Then he faded back into the shadows, leaving behind a much stronger person, sitting in his bed, than before._

"I'm helping people, they live their lives and in the end they are better for it. Patting their backs isn't going to speed up the process. Are you going to help me clean these?"

Doyle looked down at his bent head. "But you can't just—I--yeah," he sighed, finally giving up, "I'll help."

There really was nothing for it, that vampire could be as stubborn as anything when he wanted to be. The only real bonding time the two had was their weekly weapons cleaning. Silently the two men would sit and carefully polish various metals from the damage and supernatural ooze that had possibly harmed it. Actually, Doyle found it a little unnecessary as Angel insisted upon cleaning most of the substance off as quickly as possible, but the half demon had found a way to get closer to the mysterious hero and he wasn't going to turn down the opportunity.

And he wouldn't waste the little time that they sat and cleaned with worrying about things that would never change. Angel was just that kind of guy; he didn't get all touchy-feely with people and nothing that he of the power could say would change.

To himself, Angel was thinking, One step at a time, Doyle. I'm getting there. Just one step at a time.

* * *

Alright, so, I have bad news. My computer died. As is, died died. So the only computer that I have which has access to the net is this one, with a 400 _MEGA_Hz processor. The other computer, which isn't ancient, is much better to type on, but due to time contraints, the transfer between comps is a little slow. But the GOOD news is that during the long span where I didn't update I did continue to write. SO I have the next few chapters (the last of which FINALLY got done and I'm rather happy with the progression of the story after that) all typed up and ready to post! 

Only I don't know exactly how many people are still going to read this so I need all you talented peoples to **REVIEW **and tell me that you're still interested in this. I promise it gets pretty awesome, even if I do plan on drawing out the angst just a _little_ longer. **REVIEW!**


	7. Healing

"Ah, Buffy, I wanted to—"

The slayer had blown into the library, just as she always did, but instead of lighting on the edge of a convenient desk, she went straight to the cage where he kept all the "good weapons".

Eyes blazing, she shot a dozen arrows straight into the nearest poster, almost mindless of where it hit.

Cautiously, Giles approached the enraged slayer and asked, "Buffy? Are you alright?"

Buffy had launched another half dozen arrows into the poster before responding. "Alright? Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, uh, the first thought that comes to mind is you're shooting a poster which promotes reading."

She looked at the poster on the wall and there were now eighteen nicely shaped holes spattered across the covers of Hamlet and Lord of the Flies. "They were stupid books anyway," she mumbled.

Giles stifled a smile and said, "Anything particularly, uh, 'hellmouthy' I believe is the term."

Buffy's mood had to lighten after that. "Well, no. Just, a typical day in the land of Buffy. Just stick a creek by my house and call me Dawson, why don't you."

The librarian pondered the comment, briefly wondering if an increase in the mosquito population had anything to do with her outburst before giving up with yet another unfamiliar pop culture reference. "Well, I-I'm available to hear it. If your academic schedule permits, of course."

Buffy looked up at the clock that seemed to grace the deserted library only for decoration. Middle of fifth, she realized absently. "Nope, not a class for another ten minute at least." Then she took a deep breath and recalled what had happened just a few minutes prior.

_The room held a restful feeling, something that she herself had never really experienced on school grounds outside of Giles's domain. Something that Willow never had any trouble soaking up by the gallon, she thought absently, sinking into a desk near the back._

_As if summoned by her thoughts, something not entirely impossible on the hellmouth, Willow and Xander walked into the class, joking with one another._

_Briefly, she remembered what it was like to be one of them, to be joking about everyday things, acting as she had before she was called. To be one of the guys. But then she remembered how naive she had been. No matter how hard she tried, she never really fit in. There was always this gap that they all tried to ignore. She, because she wanted to believe so badly, they because they wanted to forget. But it was always there. _

_She looked away from them, but Xander seemed not to take the hint. He sat down in the desk in front of her and spun around in the seat. "Hey, Buff."_

_Buffy glanced briefly at the dark ring around his eye that still hadn't quite faded. She turned away to hide a smirk. _

_Xander took it to mean she was ashamed and his confidence was bolstered. "Look Buff, I know what happened the other day was a big emotional spit wad," he whispered conspiratorially, leaning in closer, "But a lot of it was just said in the heat of the moment. And I just wanted you to know that I'm over it. I know that things between Angel and I were never the best, but it's over and done with. Nothing you or I can do will change the past now. I really miss our friendship and...well, I guess what I'm trying to say is that I forgive you."_

_Buffy whipped her head around at those three words. What she saw was Xander looking at her like he was the biggest person on the planet and expected an extra dog treat. "WHAT!"_

_"I know it's a lot to take it," he went on sagely, "I didn't really understand it until my third can, but Buff, we used to be such good friends and--"_

_"Xander. You. Are. A. Dumbass," Buffy told him quite calmly. "I don't want your 'forgiveness'. You are in no position to play the forgiver. And FYI? I hate that name. One more syllable, is it really taking that much of your time to say? Buff-y. That's my name. I don't want to hear it come falling past your twinkie-tainted lips again."_

_Xander and Willow watched in shock as their (officially) former best friend walked out of the class. Neither of them had heard Buffy utter profanity and such strong words coming from her so calmly...they had heard others faced with that tone, but never had they been on the receiving end of her wrath._

Coming back to reality, Buffy didn't look troubled, quite the opposite, her expression could even be called jubilant. She startled Giles with the first genuine laugh she had uttered since 'The Incident'. She must've caught the questioning look on his face and explained, "You should've seen their faces, Giles! Xander turned completely white. For the first time in a long time I felt...free. It's ironic, isn't it? The people that I depended to give me normal freedoms that every girl had may have done their job after all; but only in dumping them could that have happened. I feel like chains have been lifted now I don't have to worry about what they think."

"I-I don't understand, Buffy. Willow and Xander, they may be incredibly immature and Xander was certainly out of line, but do they deserve your hatred?" Giles wondered, looking at this newly transformed girl in front of him.

Buffy shook her head. "I don't hate them, that's what I've realized. I just finally see them. I pity them. Their just delusional teenagers like everyone else. I thought they had more experience, but it turns out they're just like all the others in this blind town. You and Ms. Calendar might be the only people I can fully trust."

Giles thought guilty back on the night before.

_"Jenny!"_

_Giles ran blindly after her, the unfamiliar surroundings passing him by. He finally came to a pair of sliding glass doors where one of the panels had been carelessly slid back. He spared no glance at the glowing garden, instead his gaze was locked on the woman sobbing miserably on the bench. He went forward, through the doors and after a swift, silent debate, didn't put his hand on her shoulder._

_"Jenny, I--"_

_The young woman jumped and hurriedly wiped her eyes. "Rupert! I'm so sorry! I--this isn't about me. I know it sounds like I'm using it as an excuse to get out of things...and I don't want your sympathy, I deserve everything that you throw at me, bringing in all this just clouds everything. I don't want that, I just...I wanted to be honest."_

_Giles looked down at her tear-stained face and said, "Jenny, I'm only human. There is an inevitable response to what you said, there has to be. It might make me a less objective person for it, but I'm glad you told me what you did."_

_Hope shined through her face._

_He had to admit, seeing such the confident woman whose teasing was only rivaled by Buffy and who was constantly doing or saying something that caused him to bluster more than usual, was unnerving. "I must admit that my trust in you is a bit shaken, as to be expected, but it doesn't ignore the fact that I do care a great deal for you and you did have good intentions for you actions. I understand that it must've been...very difficult to go against your upbringing. And I respect that. I respect you. I am not going to-to scold you or yell. What I will do is give you another chance."_

_"Rupert...I..."_

_"I only ask that you do my one favor."_

_Jenny nodded vigorously, "Of course! Anything."_

_Giles face changed to one of trepidation. "Don't-don't tell Buffy. In her state of mind, I don't believe she'll be able to forgive quite so easily."_

_Now she fully understood how difficult this was for him. Just as she had gone against her upbringing to deliberately go against what her people had told her all her life, so was he. His entire being was focused on the safety of the slayer, a girl he loved like his own daughter. And she had jeopardized it more than vampires or demons ever had. It was his right and duty to punish her to his discretion, yet he did the exact opposite and gave her a second chance. She had never felt so humble in her entire life. "Rupert.." she breathed._

_He didn't meet her eyes. "Promise me?"_

_"I--of course. I won't say a word," she swore. "Thank you."_

_Giles smiled at her with relief and gave her a tiny nod. "Of course. Now must be getting home, Buffy is frantic in her quest to hunt down Spike. I should get to researching. Thank you for the delicious dinner. And it seems you were absolutely correct, the garden is simply enchanting."_

_With those words and a smile, he left her staring after him on her back porch, completely shocked at the role reversal. Now she was the one bumbling along and he was the confident one. Jenny unconsciously rubbed her cheek and the blush that caused it to glow._

Giles had no doubt in his mind that his actions were the right ones, but it didn't mean he wasn't guilty about his betrayal to Buffy. He knew that in time she would forgive Ms. Calendar as well, but it really wasn't his place to do what he had done.

He hurried to assure her of his loyalty, but she had already moved onto another topic. "Giles, I think I'm just going to go after Spike tonight. There's nothing holding me back, save lack of information, but I'm ready. I am. I need to do this, I don't think I'll be able to let go if I don't."

Her watcher's first instinct was to argue, tell her she wasn't ready and she shouldn't go into battle so recklessly. But he didn't. Because despite her temerity, Buffy was almost always serious in battle, putting the utmost concentration into what she was fighting. She didn't fight just to win, she fought for a cause and it was her idealism that made her such an effective fighter. All the past slayers had lost that somewhere over the course of their training, but Buffy's undying spirit kept her fighting _for_ something. And if Angel's life wasn't a cause worth fighting for, GIles honestly couldn't say what was.

"Alright Buffy. Tonight I'll accompany you to the crypt, but I won't actively participate in the battle unless it's necessary. I will merely quietly take out the lower minions and let you go for Spike. Be wary of Drusilla, she may be insane, but her mental deterioration does nothing to hinder her skills as a master vampiress."

"Yes, Giles," Buffy drolled, rolling her eyes.

Maybe he should've been put out by her blatant disregard for his warnings, but truth be told he was rather pleased to see the old Buffy shining through.

"I don't have to tell you to be careful, do I?" Giles asked, still perpetuating the part of the dutiful watcher.

Buffy just gave him a familiar grin and responded, "Me? I'm invincible. But yes, I'll be careful Daddy Giles."

They shared a few more moments of healthy banter before Buffy left for what was left of fifth period French, feeling much better than she had in a long while.

I'll avenge you yet, Angel, she called out silently, I'll make you proud.

* * *

First I just wanted to shout out a big THANKS! to all the people that reviewed, especially the ones that gave long reviews, though the short ones just make my day. When I get long reviews, it just makes me really want to update sooner, it's this odd feeling. Just to address some issues, I will NOT make it a short sappy ending, it would be really random if one day Buffy popped up in Angel's office and they had some wild, crazy...reunion. It just wouldn't fit the mood, so rest assured I won't get impatient and just cut it short.

Ok, so the chapter's shorter and maybe even boring, but very necessary. No Angel just because I was much better about "wrapping things up". You'll see what I mean.

Oh yeah, **REVIEW!**


	8. Pains of the Past

_Three Years Later_

"Hey Giles, what's the sitch?"

Giles didn't look up from the book he was flipping through and said, "Hello, Faith."

The brunette rolled her eyes and flopped down in the nearest library chair. "Yes, I know you like to acknowledge my presence, but _you_ called _me _here and I wanna know why." She took a quick look around the room, "Hey! B's not here, how come I have to be here when she doesn't?"

Giles let out a sigh, still not looking up from the dusty tomb in front of him. "She will be here momentarily. Buffy is in class and will be a little late." He finally looked up and Faith turned away with a bored expression on her face. She was all too used to his constant prods at her lack of formal education.

So what if I dropped outta high school? Faith thought, propping her feet on the table in front of her, it's not like I learned anything important anyway.

Giles turned his eyes back to his book, but he wasn't seeing the words. As much as Faith's rebellious ways annoyed him, he was grateful for every outburst she made.

Buffy was much improved. Spike had disappeared and shortly after word trickled down that Drusilla had died taking Kendra with her. Buffy's condition was nearly as bad as it had been after Angel's death. He feared she would never fully recover. But by some lucky chance, Faith had come to Sunnydale in need of companionship and Buffy had stepped out of her reclusive shell to offer the lost teen some comfort. It had been two years since Faith had come into their lives and Buffy had shown serious improvement. Being around the wild child had done wonders for the elder slayer's demeanor and she had even incorporated the occasional pun during a major battles here and there.

Yes, Giles thought wistfully, the Buffy Summers I once knew may make a come back after all.

He was jolted out of his thought when the doors flew open in a distinctively Buffy way. Sitting in a library all day offered very little additional skills, but one of the few was the ability to recognize how a few choice people opened the familiar double doors.

Buffy walked in and sat down, automatically raising her hand to receive Faith's traditional high five.

"Sorry I'm late. Professor Walsh is like Hitler in a suit," Buffy apologized.

Faith nodded sagely, "That's why I'm the brains here, I ditched when I could."

Giles interrupted with a cough and a frown at the conversation. "Well, yes, Buffy. Now that you're here, we can get started. I asked around some of my sources about those masked men you encountered the other night. In addition to some of the information Faith was able to, ah, obtain from our…mutual friend—"

"—really Giles," Faith interrupted with a cocky grin, "Pounding the crap outta Wily is not just a responsibility, it's a pleasure."

Buffy smiled and Giles coughed awkwardly, "Yes, well, um, as I was saying. I asked around about those men and I did manage to find out that they are some sort of specialized group that focuses on demons. I don't know who they are or who they are working for, but I do know, under very good authority, that they are all human."

Both slayers pouted, all humans meant they couldn't just slay first and ask questions later.

Giles went on, "But you must still be careful, I don't know who these men are and we don't know which side they're on. Maximum discretion is necessary until we can find out more about them."

Faith and Buffy shared a look and Faith yelled, "I call recon!"

Buffy gaped for a moment, then responded, "Hey! No fair, I'm senior slayer, I should get to call the shots."

"No way," the brunette shook her head, "I called it. 'Sides, don't you have some homework to do?"

"Girls, this is not simply a—a game of hide and seek, this is a very serious mission and I want you two to treat it as such," Giles scolded.

The pair rolled their eyes and called out in with a perfected tone and expression, "Yes, Giles."

The watcher muttered under his breath, "Impertinent…I don't know why I bother…" He disappeared into his office to finish another section of research.

After he had gone Faith turned to Buffy and asked, "Ok, B, so what's with the look?"

Buffy looked up in surprise. "What look?"

"Oh, you can't fool me," Faith told her, putting her feet down and leaning closer, "I know that it isn't exactly unusual for the quiet Buffy Summers to come in without saying anything, but you had this _look_."

Buffy turned her chair around and said, "I did not have a look."

"You so had a look."

The blonde sighed and muttered, "Riley asked me out."

Faith jumped out of her chair and ran to face her sister slayer. "Whoa! What did you say to the guy?"

Buffy gave her a look, "Uh, I didn't really say anything, I just kind of brushed him off and power walked over here."

This time it was Faith who was prodding with her eyes.

"Alright! So I stuttered and ran here. Same diff."

"Better. But why didn't you just say yes? He may be a little dull, but that boy is fine. I'm sure he would be an excellent ride," Faith told her and gyrated her hips in case there was any doubt of what she meant.

Buffy made a face and pushed her away. "Ugh! That's disgusting, Faith! First off, I don't like Riley that way. I guess he's ok, but I could never like Riley that way. Even if I did, I could never…"

Faith had heard her friend voice go all soft before, it was always when she brought up the topic of dating or anything regarding the opposite sex or sometimes just when she dragged her friend to the Bronze. It didn't take a genius to realize it had something to do with someone she lost, but she couldn't get Buffy or Giles to tell her anything about it.

"Are you ever going to tell me?"

Buffy just smiled that sad smile that made even the life-scarred Faith feel as though there was more pain in Buffy Summers than she would experience in a lifetime.

"I will. Some day."

Even after a few years in the close company of people who shared their emotions, Faith was still uncomfortable in intimate situations. So she did what she always did to lighten up the mood. "Hey, the boss just gave us the green on recon, you can't spend all day doing homework or worrying about farm boy Finn. Come on!"

Faith led the way out of the library. Buffy hung back a little and thought. I just get better at hiding it. But it doesn't stop hurting. It doesn't even stop for a moment. It just gets easier to lie. Then she trotted out after Faith.

* * *

Willow watched through the window of the Espresso Pump. Buffy and some brunette in leather pants were talking happily across the street. Or rather the brunette was doing most of the talking and Buffy just smiled and laughed occasionally. The redhead couldn't help but remember what it was like when _she_ was the one making Buffy laugh and when it was the best friend was her title. 

The young witch stirred her coffee absently and thought back on the golden days when the Scoobies would hang out and research. Willow couldn't help but feel jealous of the Leather Pants Girl walking next to her ex-best friend. Is she as close as we were? She wondered staring at the pair walking off to their own purpose. Does she know all of Buffy's secrets, or is she kept in the dark? Does she make Buffy laugh like Xander and I used to?

Willow realized she was just as hurt as she was jealous. It hurt when someone you used to tell everything to just looked at you blankly, as if you were a complete stranger, when you said hi to her in the halls. It hurt when your eyes would stray to the back of her head in Psyc class knowing that was as close as you could get now.

She was pretty sure Prof. Walsh thought she had a crush on the slayer.

But neither she nor Buffy would ever know just how much she missed the late night Scooby meeting or and impromptu research parties. As Willow watched the two walk off together, she was filled with regret and longing. But she had chosen Xander over Buffy and she couldn't go back on that now. She had made her choice and it wasn't fair to Buffy to change her mind.

* * *

Angel looked around the hotel and wondered where the team was. He knew Gunn and Fred were in their respective rooms, Wesley was in the study, and Doyle was at his apartment, sleeping off last night's hangover. 

The vampire marveled at how large his team had grown despite his anti-social ways. Fred and Gunn had proved to be reliable back up and Wesley, who was fired from the Watchers Council for a very controversial paper he would not let the team read, was a very efficient researcher. But Doyle, Angel didn't know what he would do without the half-Brakken demon. Though the brooding vampire was the official leader, it was Doyle who voiced his commands when he couldn't or wouldn't.

Doyle was the only one who knew about his apartment, but none of them knew he still went there. The younger Irishman would never think he would go back to the musty place when he had a huge hotel at his disposal. But it was his sanctuary, especially today.

Stacks of boxes were piled in various corners, filled not with old knickknacks, but drawings. Thousands of drawings. Some had Giles in them, some had him in them, but all of them had her. On the days when he felt hopeless, when he wondered what he was fighting for, all he had to do was sneak off to his apartment and within those old walls he would be reborn. Sometimes he drew her, sometimes he just went over old works, but every time he felt the stirrings of the hope that she once gave him all those years ago when he was nothing more than another rat in the New York sewers. It still held true today.

The phone rang on the desk in front of him and he automatically picked it up before he inwardly cursed himself for his inattention. Angel spent all his time trying to avoid conversation, when one picked up a telephone, he generally had to _talk_ to the person on the other end.

"Angel Investigations," he said tonelessly into the reciever.

"Angel-man," Doyle's voice came through the other line.

Instantly the vampire was on guard, Doyle didn't make some joke at his being on the phone (he had a sneaking suspicion all the others thought he didn't know how to use one) on top of calling the morning after a hangover meant only one thing...

"I had a vision."

Bingo.

"And you're not going to like it."

Now Angel was really sweating, metaphorically of course. When the half-demon had to work after a night of fun, he was usually complaining (swearing) about (at) the PTB, but if he was concerned it had to be something bad. Maybe worse than the whole Darla fiasco where his former sire tried to worm her way back into his life. He knew she was counting on his indecision, but for one of the first times in his life he knew who he was with absolute certainty, and that she no longer held any claim on him. He belonged to just one person and Darla sure as hell wasn't it. His thoughts were brought back to the present and stayed their for quite a long time with the next few words Doyle uttered.

"Angel. You're going to Sunnydale."

* * *

Too melodramtic to say, "Dun dun duuuuuuuuuuun!"? Yeah, I thought so. Well, I had a better chapter, then my bro KILLED it, so now I'm left with a semi-good chapter that is not as good as the first, but can't be improved too much more. I hope you like. I meant to bring it up a few years 3 chapters ago, but I couldn't quite cram em all in there. So, here we are and things are about to get good!

I'd like to give a HUGE **thanks** to those that reviewed, I know it's a lot of effort to push the button, then wait for it to load, then actually type something in there, (I'm actually not being sarcastic; I have dial up) so I thank all the people that take the time to do it. It's not just that it's good feed back or even polite, but it's ALSO great for my story. Because the more reviews it has, the more people will want to read it and when it's around 15000 words, it had better be worth the time it takes to read, and that means reviews. So I _really_ thank those that reviewed because you're making the story better.

Also, it's really really nice when people point out specifics that they liked or didn't like (you know who you are and I hope you get the fuzzy feeling I got when you read this) and all I can say is I try to keep it as realistic and Joss couldn't on the show.

I end referring back to the story. As a preview for the next chapter (which I know you're all but biting your hands off to read it's actually already typed and loaded, so more incentive to review) I will say one word and one word only: Yes. Hehe, now, what that refers to, I will let you decide.

**REVIEW!**


	9. Going Home

Sunnydale.

After all these years of avoiding the past, in one cruel twist of fate he now had to willingly face it head on. Could he drive to the hellmouth when with every mile he would be forced to remember all those things that still haunted him in the night? He could never forget, but having to look at the dark hell hole without her bright aura to light the way might be more than he could bear. And it had to be today of all days. The one day of the year where he just stayed at his apartment to surround himself with what he had left.

"Angel? Are you ok, man?"

Angel seemed to sink down into the chair, all his thoughts in a jumble.

"Look, I don't know if this is going to make it harder, but you have to help this girl, a teenager, brunette, a little on the slutty side…brave girl is trying to fight back against a demon, but he's completely kicking her ass. I know this guy, owes me money, but you stick something hard at the base of his neck and he's putty. Literally. So careful of the stuff, his cousin took down me best shirt," Doyle cautioned.

"I'll go myself. There's only one and…I have to do this," Angel managed to get out.

Doyle nodded, then winced at the pain it caused his pounding head, "Yeah, all yours. Just come back in one piece, and if I'm not there when you get back you better come fish my head outta the toilet with a truckload of aspirin waiting."

Angel nodded his answer and hung up the phone, not realizing Doyle couldn't see him. Sunnydale.

* * *

Faith strolled through Restfield like she did so every night when in reality it was every other night. But B admitted that she had a huge paper due the next morning and bailed, leaving Faith to do recon solo. Fine by her.

Sometimes she was a bit awed at the dedication Buffy put into her schoolwork. Giles did occasionally make teasing remarks about her study habits which indicated that it wasn't always the case, only making Faith wonder even more what happened to her.

The young slayer paused when she heard rustling sounds in the bushes and glared at the trees on her right, instinctively tensing into a fighter position. She heard some muffled mumbling, a few clinks of metal, then a loud, slithering noise. Suddenly, she heard louder noises and a huge purple-redish demon jumped through the bushes, looked wildly around. When he spotted her, his glowing eyes narrowed and he let out a hoarse roar, then began to charge.

"Get the hostile!"

Faith jumped when a team of four men, all clad in black, rushed forward carrying various high tech weapons.

"Don't worry, Miss," one man said to her, positioning himself in from of the slayer, "Stay calm and we'll handle this."

Faith was about to kick the guy in the head, when she realized she needed to get more information about them before revealing that she could kick all their scrawny asses. So, very uncharacteristically, she nodded meekly and watched then men surround the demon who looked at them as if they were bugs on the bottom of his foot.

"Formation C3, men!"

Faith rolled her eyes and a pang of familiarity hit, where had she heard...?

The four circled in an obviously practiced manner, approaching the demon in a cautionary, but firm manner. The demon though, looked at the quartet with a bored kind of amusement. When two struck simultaneously, the demon simply flipped his arm up, causing the two to fly into the air and land on their weapons with a sickening crack. The two remaining members powered up their guns and an electric blue sparked at the end of them.

This time their purple opponent looked a little more cautious, but Faith could tell he would win the fight with relative ease. She was right. The last pair shot off blue bolts that narrowly missed the demon's arm, one grazing his left side, making the demon wince in pain, but he didn't pause in his attack. Within seconds, all the original men were sprawled on the ground and Faith was left alone to deal with the big bad.

"Alright, big guy, you look like your guts are already on the outside, so this should be pretty easy," Faith jabbed, moving in with a lot more coordination than all of the other combined. Immediately sensing this new enemy's experience and power, the demon changed tactics.

Though Faith had overpowered him at the beginning, he quickly turned the tides and soon it was the slayer who was fighting for her life.

"Why won't you die!" Faith screamed as she stuck her fourth stake into where she judged his stomach would be. He just let out a grunt and landed a blow to the side of her head. Faith lay on the ground, momentarily stunned with the force of the punch and wondered how she was going to get out of what might be the last battle of her life.

Angel had lurked in his customary manner, scoping out the scene before rushing in. He had gotten there early and hung in the shadows, fighting all the memories plaguing him. How many times had he and Buffy shirked on patrol in favor of a much more pleasurable activity? He could still smell her, still feel her essence and the way she made his entire being hum just by being near. Angel always knew when his Buffy was nearby and it was the same for her. He knew her watcher probably attributed it to the vampire/slayer bond they shared, but they knew it was something entirely different. His senses were playing with his head, making him believe he could feel her, that he could smell her in the last places he had seen and been with her.

The he watched as four fighters approached the girl Doyle had described. Angel pushed the past on the back burner as the girl just watched from the back under her eyelashes, the picture of innocence, even if her clothes did suggest everything but that. But she wasn't afraid. She's the slayer, Angel realized and he almost fell to her knees. He braced himself on a nearby tree, she…the slayer.

As the familiar, yet all too different power of this new slayer washed over his senses, Angel felt like simply impaling himself onto the convenient branch that was keeping him upright. How much more ironic could you make this! The vampire screamed silently up at the Powers That Be. How much will I have to suffer? When the memories are at their height and my pain couldn't possibly get any worse, they find a way.

But when a human groan reached his ears, he looked back at the battle, at the demon who was advancing on the fallen slayer whose eyes darted around wildly.

Then it wasn't the new slayer on the ground, but Buffy, it was Buffy who was fighting the demon turned to vampire, not in the hauntingly familiar cemetery, but those docks he never wanted to see again.

Before Angel even realized it, he flew out of the shadows and attacked the demon with immeasurable ferocity. All words of advice that Doyle had told him flew out his head as he beat the demon into the ground. He was unleashing all his pain and sorrow, trying to protect something he knew was lost, with all of the power which he had bottled up since her death, onto one organism..

The demon never stood a chance.

Though Angel was sure he didn't hit that crucial spot on the back of the monster's neck, what remained of him was little more than slime anyway. Angel dragged himself away and breathed heavily, coming to his senses. He realized he had unleashed his own demon and forced his mask of humanity back into place with the ease of years of discipline even if he could all but taste his rage.

He then turned to the slayer who lay on the ground, barely conscious. The vampire bent to give her a hand up and she took it, unsteadily getting to her feet.

"Thanks, um, there aren't that many players around here. Not new ones anyway. And I would've remembered you," Faith flirted.

Not even seeing straight and already she's hitting on me, Angel thought, "I used to live here. Now I don't. Give me a call if you need anymore help." He pressed a business card into her hand and with that he disappeared into the night.

Faith stood, stunned at just how fast everything had happened. "Oook." She rubbed her temple where already a large bump was forming and shoved the card into her pocket for later scrutiny. Then she took a look at the scattered uniformed men on the ground before shrugging and heading off to her apartment for some serious sleeping and hopefully a good demonstration of slayer healing powers.

"Strange guy," she muttered, walking off. He gave her his number, but she was damn sure it wasn't a social thing. To call him was like admitting she couldn't handle herself. "Who does he think he is? I could've tackled that demon," she told herself, knowing perfectly well that she couldn't. "Whatever, I'm not going to call him." Faith realized she was talking to herself and wondered exactly how hard that demon had hit her head. "Sleep. It will cure everything."

* * *

Back in LA, the office was alerted of Angel's mission. All of the gang, with the exception of Doyle who still claimed he was sick, had assembled and were discussing it.

"It's not like him to just go off like that," Fred said.

She was right, though it wasn't unusual for Angel to insist on taking a case himself, he was generally very sensible about missions. If he went solo, he always let the team know ahead of time, which meant at least one other member, again, not including Doyle who would know what mission he was on anyway.

"Well, I'm sure he had a good reason, I mean, it's Angel. Come one, back me up, British," Gunn nudged Wesley who was looking out at the window.

"Huh? Oh! Well, I, uh, I do agree that it isn't incredibly unusual for a reclusive person like Angel to just go off on a mission, but it does present a, uh, a wrinkle in his usual patterns," Wesley managed.

Gunn rolled his eyes, he and the others had worked on getting the up tight man to loosen up and speak plainer, but when he wasn't paying attention or caught off guard, he would revert to "English, English" as he called it.

"I sure do hope he'll alright," Fred murmured.

Gunn let out an easy laugh, "It'll just be like the time with Crazy Kate."

Every one let out a chuckle at that. Kate was the police officer who had a crush on Angel from the very start, even after she had caught him supposedly red handed in one of her toughest cases of the year. Though Angel's terse and laconic demeanor off put most everyone, Kate seemed to fall hard and fast for the strong, silent type. Completely oblivious to her advances and the "goo goo eyes" she made every time he walked into a room, it went on for years, allowing him a lot of slack with regards to the LAPD. By the time Gunn joined the team, they resolved to tell Kate Angel was a vampire, but due to serious miscommunication on the part of Doyle, she now believed he was gay which effectively ended the tale of Crazy Kate.

Angel still didn't know what they did, but did notice Kate hung around a lot less, but everyone at the station was just as friendly, if not more so, than before.

But the only other time Angel had run off without notifying the team was when Kate schemed up some insane plan where she insisted Angel was the perfect man for the job and he needed to be called out to some secluded beach right away.

Wesley rubbed his glasses and said, "I'm sure it's nothing like that, Angel deserves a break once in a while, perhaps he just wanted to enjoy the sights of a new town."

"Perhaps," Gunn mocked.

They then prepared themselves for a very lazy day without the boss.

* * *

Buffy's emotions were at a breaking point. She hid it well from Faith and Giles, but inside she felt like dying. Today her birthday, her twentieth to be exact. She had long since stopped celebrating her birthday as that day of the year was the one that she felt like celebrating the least.

It had been three years. Three, insanely painful and long years of her life.

She spent this day moping around, remembering him and all those things she now could never have with him again. But she had become quite good at wearing a mask, so she went about as Buffy Summers was expected.

Then Finn asked her out. And everything went down hill from there. Any other time she could've just brushed it off with a cold attitude or…anything, but today she couldn't handle it and simply broke down, shaking her head and running away. She didn't cry, she had cried since that night with Giles all those years ago, but she died a little more each day.

Now she was walking past those tombstones where she once claimed were the most comfortable make-out spots. She walked through her memories and could feel him near her, as if he were close by, something that she hadn't experienced for a long time. Was it his way of comforting her or torturing her? Or both? It was heaven and hell, those few precious dreams that came through on these nights. The ones where she felt pain so intense she wasn't sure she would be able to live through them to the next morning.

For her birthday, when she just thought she couldn't take it anymore, he swooped in like the Angel he was and his presence seemed almost tangible. As she walked, the feeling faded, but Buffy had felt it, if only for a fleeting moment. And just that small bit of comfort, though it tore at her heart, made her smile when she realized that for the first time in a long time, she could feel that she had one.

* * *

Riley Finn walked back to his dorm in thought. Buffy Summers, god how he loved the way her name sounded. Buffy. It was so original. He had been admiring her all year, paying special attention to her exceptional school work, trying to find out everything he could about the tiny blonde. But when she ignored all his subtle hints and when he finally mustered up the courage to ask her out, she went as white as a sheet, before violently shaking her head and running off.

He just couldn't understand it.

The fact that she just didn't like him had barely entered his mind before he crossed it off as unlikely, when a girl responded that vehemently to a simple drink, it had more serious implications. Clearly she reciprocated his feelings and was just shy. Or she had been hurt in the past and was merely afraid to be hurt again as was typical of most freshman girls. Especially girls as beautiful as Buffy.

"Hey, Finn! I heard about the bust, don't worry, we'll catch the hostile some other time," a frat brother and fellow team mate said to him, walking along side the elder soldier.

"I'm not worrying, I have absolute confidence in my team," Riley responded, automatically, barely even thinking before defending his fellow fighters.

The older soldier held up his hands in surrender, "Chill, man, I wasn't implying you couldn't do it, I just thought you needed to lighten up. Mishaps happen all the time, don't need to walk through the halls looking so down."

Riley looked up with a start. Everyone must've thought he was so thoughtful because of the hostile that managed to evade his team, not because he had just been (temporarily) rejected by the girl of his dreams.

"I know you didn't mean anything by it, Jackson. I'll see you in the training room later, we'll have a friendly spar or something," Riley apologized.

The younger recruit brightened at the idea, spending time with the Walsh's favorite would earn him serious brownie points. "Alright, I'll hold you to it, Finn."

"I keep my promises," Riley told him, before splitting off and into the base. And I promise that you'll go out with me, Buffy. I'll help you work through your fears. Don't worry.

* * *

I don't like fics that bash Riley too much, but at the same time it's really hard to write him intelligently. Cuz, you know. Anyway, I thought I'd throw in Finn, just to make it a little more interesting. Likes, dislikes...some feedback or suggestions would be really nice here. Comments, questions? Anything at all. Well, no flames, but if you don't like it, definitely tell me, just don't scream obsenities. I usually don't respond very well to those. But just **REVIEW!**(s) would be awesome.  



	10. Torment and Discovery

Buffy shot up in bed, sweating and gasping harshly for air. She felt hot and cold all over, her heart beating wildly against her chest. Strands of soaked blonde locks clung thickly to her face and shoulders, but her wild eyes weren't focusing on the nearest mirror, rather they were darting around the dark room as if a million insects were flying around.

Rationally she knew if she just slowly laid back and closed her eyes, she'd calm down and she would probably forget it ever happened in the morning. But she didn't want that to happen. She didn't want to forget about it in the morning, already there were too many things that she was forgetting.

It was just a dream, a nightmare, really, but it was so vivid in her tired mind.

Buffy remembered she was walking down a white corridor, the doors and walls were as impersonal as the floor or ceiling. The pale florescent lights of the hall sapped away the little life that dared intrude on the narrow walkway.

A hospital.

She just remembered walking, walking, then one door seemed brighter than the rest. Not whiter, but brighter, as if the space behind it had something alive behind it.

Far removed from the situation, she remembered seeing her hand come out and turn the knob, not really feeling the cool metal against her palm. Barely feeling the resistance a normal handle should have.

Beds. Rows and rows of generic beds were lined up, each one had a human sized lump under sheets that had been washed too many times. Her gaze traveled down the endless line, but when she moved her focus to the faces of those in the bed, all she saw was a blur. A brown-black, tannish blur.

On all the metal frames there hung a chart. She saw herself move closer to the nearest one, saw her arms descending toward the brown wood, stark contrast with the rest of the room, and saw herself see the words that were on the paper.

Angel.

Her eyes quickly darted back up to the person in the bed, but no matter how hard she tried, all she could make out was a blur.

Next bed, same chart, another blur. Crying now, the whole world was a blur, and everything she could see was just a big mass of white, there was no other color to be found, no Angel to be found.

And suddenly she was here in her bed, terrified out of her mind, almost paralyzed in her fear.

Jumping out of the sweat soaked sheets, she stumbled and almost fell as the fabric tangled around her legs, but she paid it no mind, fumbling violently through her drawers.

After a few minutes of frantic search, she collapsed, her back to the drawers, tears streaming down her face.

"I'm forgetting..." she whispered brokenly, hugging her knees tight to her.

Of all her possessions, the ones she held most dear were those that Angel had given to her, but she had nothing of him to see, nothing of his likeness to remember him by. She could still recall his scent, the feel of even his one night old stubble, but one day, what if she couldn't? She had no pictures of him, no sketches; nothing but her own memories. What if she forgot? What if she couldn't remember?

Buffy closed her eyes and pictured him in her mind's eye. Yes, there he was, as real as if he was standing right in front of her. She could recall every line of his face, every spike of his hair, she could remember all of it with perfect clarity and for a moment she was content.

"I'll never forget," Buffy vowed solenmly, "I'll never forget."

She closed her eyes and there was her Angel, smiling his little half smile, looking so beautiful in the soft moonlight. As often as he dreamed of his brow touched by the sun, he was simply breathtaking at night. How could she describe it? His dark hair, styled so carefully, a kind of organized chaos, an art form in itself. His pale skin that never blushed, that was always cool, except for when she warmed it. Everytime they touched, it was something incredibly soothing, like a cool washcloth on a fevered forehead; she never knew just how tense she was until Angel made her relax. His eyes, dark pools of ebony that were always so serious. They fixated on everything with an underlying glare, but for her, only for her, was there a softness. For her, all of him was softness.

She knew all her silly schoolgirl worries were unfounded, but still couldn't see why others didn't see it. It was stupid to have worried about his loyalty, his devotion to her, but she just couldn't understand, still couldn't understand why no one else saw what she did. He was dark and serious, but he was perfect, and he was her everything.

Now he was gone, but she wouldn't let him die. "I'll never forget..." she whispered one last time, before drifting off into an exhausted sleep.

Joyce Summers woke during the night to go to the bathroom. Rushing across the hall and through the cooler air outside her bed, she finished her business, and peered into her daughter's room on the way back. She always did when she could, after all, now that Buffy was only staying with her some weekends, she didn't have her little girl there to check in on often enough. She happily moved the door open a crack. The sight that met her broke her heart.

Buffy's head was at a slight angle, her mouth barely open, and she was leaning against her dresser. But what Mrs. Summers focused on the most was the twin lines falling crookedly from Buffy's eyes to her chin, glistening faintly in the dim light. Joyce quickly covered her mouth to keep from making a sound; trying to keep her own tears at bay. She had never seen a sadder sight than her little Buffy so distraught.

And she didn't know what to do.

None of her parenting books had prepared her for the situation presented. There was no chapter titled "What to do When You Find Your Only Daughter Cries Herself to Sleep in the Fetal Position". Joyce just wanted to protect her. And she was at a complete loss at how to do it.

* * *

Faith glared at her drink. What was she doing? 

A lot of people had made cracks about her lifestyle and her reckless behavior, but no on could ever say she let her personal life interfere with her slaying.

Kakistos didn't count, besides, she killed him anyway.

But that was because she had been lost. She didn't have that cop out this time. She knew exactly what she was doing and how unprofessional it was. How dangerous.

But id don't know how dangerous, she told herself, I don't know what he is, this could be the only way to find out.

Once she had convinced herself she was there for the sake of slaying, her scowl eased and she relaxed back into her chair. I'll just be careful not to reveal too much about myself.

"'Ello love."

* * *

Faith gasped, her lungs were on fire, her muscles burned in agony, sweat dripped down her spine. 

And he had never felt better.

Spike pulled back a moment, letting her catch her breath, but she wouldn't have it and pulled him back down to her mouth. He slammed her up against the wall behind the Bronze. She grunted and wrapped her legs around his waist pulling him as close as her slayer strength could get him.

"Interesting," Spike panted.

"Mmph, what?" Faith murmured impatiently.

"If you want it rough, I can make it rough. Bloody chip doesn't care 'bout me if you want it," Spike told her with a grin.

"Really?" Faith said with a suggestive eyebrow raised.

Spike looked at her thoughtfully. "Maybe it's cause you're the slayer. Then again," he kissed her hard, "It doesn't matter. "

* * *

Giles rubbed his tired eyes and looked at the clock. Quarter to three. Doubtless Faith had forgotten to report tonight. He yawned and packed his thin briefcase with some reference book, then turned out the light. In the dark, he brushed up against one of the many desks in the library and one heavy volume fell with a dull thud. 

Swearing, he picked it up and fumbled with the paper that had fallen out. Paper that had fallen out?

Panicked, Giles turned on the nearest light, cursing his own oafishness, hoping to god that the pages in the book could be some how reattached. Didn't he have a chum at Oxford who bound his own books...?

Giles looked down at the pages in his hand and blew out a huge sigh of relief when he found the paper was nothing more than a sheaf of notes that was left in the hundred year old book and the actual book was undamaged.

Weak with relief, he carefully set the old tome on the table, far away from the edge, and was about to set down the notes as well, when he realized he recognized the handwriting.

"Jenny?" he wondered aloud, look at what was written more closely.

* * *

Sledge hammers, Jenny thought, groaning into her pillow. Stupid neighbors and their promotion. 

Oh, she had been as happy as anyone when she heard the news and went to the celebratory block party, but the subsequent renovation and constant before-dawn construction was enough to turn anyone into a grouch.

And now they pulled out the sledge hammers. Perfect.

"Jenny!"

Ok, Jenny thought sleepily, now that's new. She sat up and realized that accompanying the loud thuds was a very familiar voice yelling her name.

"Rupert?" she yelled. Or rather, she tried to yell. What came out was a kind of hoarse breath before her voice completely quit on her.

Jenny cleared her throat and said, "Rupert?"

She found her slippers and got out of bed, putting her favorite blue robe over her pajamas.

"Jenny!"

Apparently the assurance that she was home and awake AND going to open the door wasn't enough for him, Jenny though with amusement. Well, doesn't matter. See how her neighbors liked having someone waking them up at…THREE IN THE MORNING!

She stomped over to the door and practically threw it open. "Rupert! It's THRE—"

"What is this!" the librarian cut her off, pushing papers in her face. "What IS this!"

"What?" Jenny asked, pushing the papers away from her face, "What is what?"

"THIS!" Giles waved the papers wildly, poking a finger near the center of the mess. "This resembles a-a portion of a resurrection spell that was divined by the Emperor Jung in the early 1300's! And I found it in a book on the anatomy of various supernatural beings! What _exactly_ are you planning here!"

Ms. Calender was struck dumb. She had never expected anyone to find those. "I-I…"

"I trusted you!" Gilles ranted, moving into the house. Jenny closed the door behind him, numbly. "I-I gave you the benefit of the doubt and-and you're dealing with deep and dangerous occult BLACK MAGIC behind my back! I don't know how I could've been so blind, not knowing you were planning something of this-this magnitude! I don't even know what _this_ is!

"It's resurrecting a vampire!" Jenny screamed. "I…I thought…"

"A vampire!" Giles yelled. "Why in the world would anyone—oh," he stopped short. "You're t-trying to resurrect a, um, a vampire?"

"Yes," Jenny responded, not looking at him.

A million thoughts flew through Giles's head. He gaped for a few minutes before finally picking one, "H-have you had any luck?"

At that she did look up. This was strictly business, this she could handle. "First I looked up the original resurrection spells by my people when I encountered the curse they placed on Angel." There was a hard look in her eyes when she said, "They added a clause."

"A clause?" Giles repeated, confused.

"Yeah, apparently a life time of torment wasn't enough. The moment that Angel felt true happiness, just a moment would be enough, he would lose his soul and Angelus would be back," Jenny explained bitterly.

"Dear God…"

"So I had to get the original curse, the first one, without the clause. But that was even more ancient than the first. It took me a few weeks to decipher the first curse, that's how I found out about the clause. I took a random sampling of the text and basically created a program to decode the whole curse. From there I had to rekey the computer to…well, it's technical, but it took me a few months. So now I have the original curse to give Angel his soul back, permanently."

Giles was giving her his undivided attention, so she took a deep breath and continued. "Then I went to find the basic magics needed to resurrect a vampire. But I was shunned from my clan and it was difficult to obtain the necessary information. What I eventually found out was that the magics that they did have were incomplete--the spell was truly lost. So I searched other resurrection spells on various levels of the supernatural. Emperor Jung happened to be one of them, " the technopagan nodded to the paper Giles was still holding in his hand, "There were others, dozens of others, and despite their differences, they all had some things in common. So I jig sawed them all together and came up with a spell that should work."

"But a resurrection, that would kill any human who tries to attempt it," Giles breathed.

Jenny nodded, "It would, and it makes sense, a life for a life. And an immortal life would kill even another immortal. In fact it would be risky to use just a human life to perform a vampire resurrection. But even if all that could be found, there was another problem…"

"The soul," Giles said with sudden realization.

"The soul," Jenny repeated. "It would suck out the soul of anyone who tried the curse."

Giles took off his glasses and methodically wiped them. "B-but…what if you were to first resurrect the vampire and then restore the soul?"

"I thought of that. See, there's a way to keep the one who performs the ritual to die," Jenny explained. Giles was startled, he hadn't known that and was fascinated. "You can channel the magic and…deflect it. A lot like an offering, or that's how it's referred to in the ancient texts. It takes the life of an animal instead of a human, so it's still a life. In this case, it would have to be some sort of immortal demon. But it can be done. Only the amount of energy that's required drains the witch. It's preferable to death, of course, but…"

"…but you wouldn't be able to complete the second spell in time. You'd need a second witch," Giles finished. "This is…Jenny this is incredible. You've single-handed revived magics that were lost centuries ago. I-I don't know what to say."

Jenny blushed and didn't look at him.

Giles sighed, "I-I'm sorry I didn't trust you. It was wrong of me, I just…"

"I should've told you. I almost did when I found the curse, and then again when I deciphered the original curse, but every time there was so much that I had to do. And…there's one more thing," Jenny said slowly.

From the tone in her voice, Giles knew he wasn't going to like it. "What?"

"I tried for months to get around it, but even this was a huge stretch. In order to resurrect a vampire, you need his ashes. We can't get those. Or you need a piece of him, we can't get that either. So I was stuck. You can't just conjure a vampire from thin air, you have to have something tangible to create him from."

"Yes, it follows the basic law of magic. Everyone knows this, how did you manage to get around it?" Giles wondered aloud.

Jenny frowned, "I was sure there was nothing I could do, but I came across ancient folklore. An old wives' tale really. In it a prince wished so fervently for his princess that she appeared. Literally. But when he found she was nothing more than a part of him, like an arm or leg, he cast her off and they both lived half lives. But it got me thinking. If I could find someone who could imagine Angel with such perfect clarity that he would be almost tangible, then I could use the magic to bring back the rest of him. So, I altered the spell to make sure that it wouldn't be a part of the original host, but his own person. But..it still needs a host."

"And that host would have to be Buffy." Giles finished unhappily.

"Yes, she's the only one would have the knowledge," Jenny said.

"L-let me see if I understand. You have gathered and created the spells to both resurrect a vampire and then restore his soul. But in order to do that you need Buffy to imagine him, and then another witch to conjure the spell. If all you need is a witch, I could perform the magic," Giles volunteered.

Jenny shook her head. "It's not that simple. I don't even know if I could perform it. This is such a powerful spell that unless you've been training along these exact lines of magic, it would tear you apart from the inside. I've been training for the last two years, ever since I realized I needed to perform this spell. Even if you were an extremely powerful mage, you'd still have to be training specifically for this. I can't let you."

Giles didn't look happy, but he accepted her expertise in the matter. "So the only thing that stands between a successful resurrection of Angel is the consent of Buffy and another witch?"

"Yeah!" Jenny exclaimed in surprised. "T-that's all that's left. I can't believe it's almost done…"

Giles smiled at the happy surprise on her face. "Well, I believe I need to have a word with Buffy tomorrow. Will you accompany me? This might be the most…convenient time to reveal your background to her."

Jenny was surprised and a little afraid. What would Buffy think of her now? She had become close to the slayer, being a part of Giles's life and the blonde's slaying duties for so long, would that change? Never know until you try, she thought, grimly.

"Alright," Jenny nodded, "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Excellent," Giles said. "Please try to get some sleep, I'm sorry I woke you." He left, but not before giving her the brightest smile she had seen in a long time.

She closed the door and whispered, "Oh boy."

* * *

Angel stared blankly at the fire, the only source of light in the dim room. 

There were so many things that were running through his head, he just needed to get them all organized and manageable. He was back in Sunnydale, that in itself was a lot to take. His mission had everything to do with the life he hid from and the person he had to face was Buffy's replacement.

Was her watcher Giles? How did he feel about all this?

Angel looked around the room sadly, even this building he bought with her in mind. She'd never seen it, never been in it, but he still thought of her. He wasn't sure he could do this. He had to _do_ something, fight, protect—anything but sit and remember everything he didn't want to. He really wanted to do was go to her house, just because he felt as though he needed…something. Everytime he passed a graveyard he instinctively looked for her and when he couldn't, he caught himself searching the gravestones.

Damn vampirism, he cursed, pacing the room restlessly. He couldn't go out during in the sun, but everywhere by sewer was just out of the question. Angel stared hard at the familiar fire.

No matter where he went or what happened, fire was always the same. Even though he couldn't really feel the warmth on his skin, it gave him that small bit of comfort knowing that simply by having it there, everything else in the world was a little warmer.

What he wanted was to go back to LA where he wouldn't be haunted anymore. Finally he crouched in front of the stone fireplace, watching the flames jump up.

"I miss you," he whispered quietly, "God I miss you."

With that he closed his eyes painfully and curled upin front of the fire like a kitten, waiting for the sun to go down.

* * *

Xander scanned the Bronze nervously. After a few violent interactions with his former best friend, and at least one _very_ violent nightmare, he was nervous everywhere he went. 

Willow, however, didn't seem to be having that problem. She was staring dreamy-eyed at the stage, or rather, the lead guitarist on the stage.

What's she doing with a band-guy anyway? Xander asked bitterly. Everyone knows what they're like.

Oz looked at Willow and smiled a small Oz smile which caused Willow to practically split her face in half by grinning back. Xander scoffed at his table.

Sometimes he really missed Cordelia, he wished she hadn't been so impatient and understand why he was so concerned about a friend. Sure Anya had been more than a friend for a little while, but that flame quickly burned out when she discovered life outside of high school and quickly dropped him for other more supernatural creatures. But they were both gone and he was still here, the bitch of every construction worker in Sunnydale. Maybe it was time he got over it, he thought, eyeing a pair of blondes he recognized from a former history class.

Oz was incredibly content on stage, doing exactly what he loved doing with his own personal Willow nearby…life couldn't get any better.

Of course seeing the slightly annoying Xander get rejected by Amy and Joan was pretty amusing too.

After the set, Willow rushed up to her boyfriend and gushed. "you guys were great! I can't believe how great you were! And I'm not just saying that cuz I'm your groupie—hey! I'm a groupie of my boyfriend! My boyfriend who's in a band with groupies!"

Oz bent down and kissed her as she was pausing to draw a breath.

"W-what was that for?" Willow asked, dazed.

Oz shrugged, happily. "I like you as my groupie."

Willow beamed up at him. Remembering her pep talk with herself earlier that evening in the bathroom, she mustered up some courage and asked, "Will you, uh, will you like me as your groupie on Friday night at my parents' house?"

Oz was a little surprised at first, then he smiled to put his girlfriend at ease. "I like you as my groupie anytime." His smile changed into a thoughtful look. "Any day but Friday through Sunday this week. Relatives."

"Oh," Willow frowned, "That's ok."

"If it helps, I'll still be liking you as my groupie," Oz consoled.

His redhead rewarded him with a smile. "It does. So, relatives?"

Oz nodded. "Including my new cousin Jordy," He grabbed her coat and handed it to her. At her questioning look, he said, "Ice cream."

Used to his wordless ways, Willow just took her coat and they left the Bronze, hand in hand.

Watching from the corner, Xander seethed when he saw their intertwined hands swinging merrily between the couple.

* * *

"Agent Finn!" 

Riley, in full military uniforn got up and stood at attention. "Yes, ma'am?"

Professor Maggic Walsh walked in front of her agents, looking as severe as she got. "Have you and your team managed to capture the hostile?"

Riley felt the urge to lok down at the floor in shame, but he kept his eyes level. "No, ma'am."

As predicted, his commander's eyes blazed. "What is it's status?"

Gulp. "We believe it to be...terminated, ma'am."

Commander Walsh was practically spitting fire. "Terminated?"

Riley fought to keep his voice from quivering. "Yes, ma'am."

"Nothing further, you are all dismissed!" There was a bit of a scuffle as everyone tried to race for the door without making it seem as though they were racing for the door. Riley didn't even bother, knowing full well he wasn't leaving with everyone else. "Agent Finn, a word!"

As soon as everyone had left and the double doors were securely closed, the Commander turned to her favorite agent. "Finn what happened? You know this hostile was vital to the project and yet you failed in capturing it."

"I'm sorry, ma'am. My team performed their best, we carried out the formations perfectly, but the hostile knew what we were going to do, as if he learned from our last capture," Riley said.

Commander Walsh frowned severely at her clipboard. "You said it was terminated, if your team didn't terminate it, who did?"

Riley shook his head. "I don't know, ma'am. That's what puzzles me. There was a girl the hostile attacked, but she seemed terrified. Very cooperative, she stayed out of the way, didn't make any noise, but when the team regained consciousness, she was no where to be seen and a large puddle of some gel-like substance was on the grass."

"Did your team gather a sample?" Walsh asked eagerly.

"Uh, no, ma'am" Riley winced.

She put down the clipboard. "No? It did not occur to a single member of your team that the puddle that replaced your hostile may have components linking the hostile to his death? Or at the very least that it would contain some vital information about the hostile itself?"

Riley tried very hard to swallow the large lump in his throat. "No, ma'am."

Walsh looked as though she were about to explode, but she took a deep breath and picked her clipboard back up. "Alright, Agent Finn. You are dismissed. In the future, please try to remember to collect all the evidence possible."

"Yes, ma'am." Riley refrained from bolting out of the room like his immature comrades, no matter how angry Walsh was. He'd better give the heads up to the rest of men, she'd be impossible to deal with for a week.

Walsh closed her eyes and breathed deeply through her nose. It was alright, despite the demon's high intellectual capacity, he wasn't quite what she was looking for in terms of strength. A minor set back in the project. It would continue as planned.

Confident that everything would be alright, she flipped a few pages and checked what was next on the list.

"A werewolf," Walsh muttered to herself. "Interesting..."

* * *

Alright, so I finally updated. I wanted to really speed up the storyline, because the chapters are getting longer and if I didn't do something interesting in them, you'd all fall asleep on me. So what do you think? I have half of the next chapter typed up and most of it written, so there will be more soon. Think of it as a New Years present. **REVIEW!

* * *

**


	11. Mixing Wolves with Truth

Her captive really didn't know when to give up. "One more time, buddy. You're in my town, what the hell are you doing here?"

The middle aged man in the fur coat tried one last time to free his hands from what he assumed to be her belt and lift his head up despite her small foot on his neck, to no avail.

Finally he let loose a sigh and let his muscles relax.

Good man, Buffy thought sarcastically.

"My name is Cain," he said, interrupting her thoughts. "I'm a werewolf hunter."

Buffy started. "Then why are you _here?"_

Cain let out a rough laugh. "Because blondie, you've got a werewolf."

"And what do you plan on doing?" Buffy demanded.

"My job," he replied, tiliting his head to reveal a necklace of werewolf teeth. "Killed 'em all myself. This one'll make it thirteen." "You're not killing this one. This is my town and I deal with its problems," she told him.

Another laugh. "What makes you think you can handle the job?"

The slayer replaced her foot with her hand and smiled sweetly at the man. "The fact that I can take down a guy who took down twelve werewolves for a start. That and I did it without breaking a sweat for another. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a werewolf to find and I need my belt."

Cain, apparently unconvinced, took one last shot. "Little girl like you? Humans are one thing, kid, but the supernatural is a whole new ballgame."

Without even turning around, Buffy replied, "I think I can handle it." Then she left behind the very stunned hunter.

"So that's the slayer," he said in amazement. As he carefully picked himself up, he rubbed his wrists, but he was looking out at the spot she disappeared. "Good luck kid, you'll need it."

* * *

Werewolf, Buffy thought excitedly. Well, it had to happen sometime. Wonder what werewolves _feel_ like. Her feet were moving on autopilot, taking her to the library without any conscious thought. I mean, vampires have a bad vibe, then you have demons which feel weird...would a werewolf feel fuzzy? 

"Hey, B," Faith greeted, when Buffy walked through the door with a preoccupied look on her face, "Please tell me you got news, Geeves here keeps making me do drills."

"Faith, if you can't follow the basics, like remembering to check in after a night of patrol, you need to review. I'm merely following basic logic, there's no need to be dramatic," Giles said, peering at her over the book he was reading.

Buffy saw Faith open her mouth to protest further, so she hurridly cut her off. "We've got a werewolf," she blurted.

Both occupants of the library turned to her.

"No way!" Faith yelled with her patent I'm-gunna-kick-some-ass-soon grin.

"A-are you quite certain?" Giles stuttered.

"Well," Buffy amended, "I haven't seen it or anything, but I ran into a werewolf hunter on my turf and he didn't seem like the joking kind of guy. I'd say we have a werewolf."

Now everyone was excited, Faith was grinning like a maniac, Giles was muttering about traditional methods and Buffy had to admit, having a werewolf under her belt would be pretty impressive. After all, what decent slayer hasn't faced a werewolf?

"So we gunna need some silver bullets or what?" Faith asked.  
"No," Buffy countered, "No killing. Whoever our wolf is, he's still a person twenty-nine days of the month. We need to find out who this person is and if we can help them."

"Actually, they're humans twenty-seven days of the month," Giles announced, "The nights before and after the full moon have a powerful enough pull on the beast to cause the change. But I do agree with Buffy. Unless it's imperative, simply, um, subduing the werewolf would be the best course of action."

Faith agreed completely, but still felt the need to put up some kind of resistance. "Damn. Putting a leash on the doggie is a lot less fun than just shooting him."  
"And a lot more difficult," Giles added unfazed. "Tomorrow night is the full moon, when the wolf will be at his strongest. If at all possible, we need to identify the human and try to persuade him or her to be more cautious. If we fail in both actions, we still have the night after."

"Sounds like a plan," Buffy chirped.

"You don't sound very concerned."

Everyone turned to the entrance. Standing calmly in the doorway was Oz.

"What the hell?" Faith demanded, jumping off the table and stalking towards him.

"Should we be?" Buffy asked equally calm, as if Faith hadn't said anything.

Recognizing the tone of her voice, Faith stopped and turned in surprise, but backed up and moved to Buffy's side.

Like supporting the alpha, Oz thought when he noticed the action. The unwanted connection disturbed him and he quickly said, "I think I'm your werewolf."

An eyebrow shot up. "You just got up this morning and thought, 'You know, I'm feeling pretty wolfy today, let's go bother Buffy'?"

"I woke up in the woods naked without any memory of it. And I felt...I don't know, but I think I'm your werewolf," Oz told them.

"So what do you want us to do?" Buffy asked, stil not backing down.

"Don't tell Willow," he said quietly.

If Buffy was surprised to hear about her former best friend, she didn't show it. "Fine, anything else?"

Oz nodded and looked at the specially built cage in the corner. "Does that lock?"

Plans were made and Oz left to get ready, promising he'd be back with plenty of time to be locked up.

Faith, who had been silent and unwavering in her support of Buffy while Oz was there, now turned to her. "What the _hell_ was that!"

"That was Oz," Buffy replied calmly, knowing full well what Faith was asking and also knowing that she deserved the truth. Now it was all going to come out.

"I know that was Oz, I've seen him play at the Bronze. That's the only place I've seen him and I know you've never been in there, so how do _you_ know him?" Faith yelled.

"He is, the, erm, rather he _was_ the boyfriend of Willow three years ago, correct?" Giles interjected.

Faith looked at Giles in surprise. She had a feeling in a few minutes everything was about to come out into the open. That little thing, or rather, big thing that happened to Buffy in the past was about to be revealed.

She was right. Buffy took a deep breath and told her the story. "Willow Rosenburg was my best friend in high school. She and Xander Harris. Then there was Cordelia, Oz, and...Angel. He..."

"He's the guy," Faith said with a nod. The way Buffy had said his name, she just knew that this had everything to do with Angel.

"Yeah," Buffy continued, "He's the guy. Together we were the Scoody Gang. Willow was the net girl, Xander was snack guy, but Angel...Angel..." Buffy bit her lip hard. Her knuckles were white, just short of drawing blood. "...was everything. He was my equal. And he was killed. I was devestated, but my 'friends' weren't very understanding."

"Harsh," Faith said with a whistle, "Sounds like you had some pretty lame ass friends, there B."

"I thought they were the greatest for a while," Buffy admitted, "They knew everything about me, but they were still my friends. They made me feel like I was still normal, you know? But they thought they knew what was best for me, like they knew what 'normal' really was. See, the thing about Angel is he's a vampire."

Faith stared. Buffy, _Buffy_, little miss I-never-break-the-rules was in love with a _vampire!_

Buffy continued as if she didn't see Faith's mouth open in surprise. "He made me feel more normal than all my friends ever could. He was the only one who really knew what I had to go through. And when he died...well, they said somethings, I said some things--"

"--you hit Xander..." Giles murmurred under his breath.

Faith's eyes went wide. "You, Buffy Summers--Buffy who doesn't do anything wrong or bad or even remotely close to the badness of not _flossing_--fell in love with a vampire AND hit a human!"

"I don't know if you can call him that," Buffy muttered.

"Buffy!" Giles chided.

"Angel meant a lot to me, and when he died Xander was practically dancing-on-the-table, singing-with-the-birds happy. Maybe I was a little harsh, but I was so angry at him, at Spike, just as everyone," Buffy explained.

Faith started. "S-Spike?"

"Yeah," Buffy affirmed angrily, "Spike's the undead bastard who killed Angel. His crazy girlfriend Drusilla's the one who killed Kendra. If I ever find him, he'll have a whole knew perspective on not being able to die, I'll tell you that."

Faith couldn't look away from the floor, hearing her sister slayer's fury at the man--no, vampire, who up until just that second, was the reason she couldn't wait to get out of the stuffy library.

Seeing both his charges preoccupied with other matters, Giles cleared his throat and said, "So now that everyone is fully aware of the situation, what are we going to do about Oz's...condition?"

Buffy frowned. "I don't know Oz too well, he and Willow had just started going out. But he did come to us for help, so I guess that's a point in his favor," she said a little grudgingly.

"He's got a really decent rep in the Bronze, the nice guy of the band," Faith added.

"But his poker face might mean he's hiding something," Buffy said.

Giles shook his head in disagreement. "I think the boy was scared. He didn't know what happened after he woke up, but most importantly, he didn't know who he hurt. I don't believe this is any kind of scheme."

Buffy leaned back in her chair. "Or he just had a bad hangover."

Faith grinned, but she still agreed with Giles. "I vote wolfy's in. For now."

Slowly, the senior slayer aquiesced. "For now."

* * *

Cordelia was having a horrible time. First, the contact she had, you know, the guy who would immediately cast her into a leading role opposite that cute October Sky guy (hey, it was _her_ fantasy) ? Yeah, well, turns out he's dead. Then the gorgeous Malibu-themed condo her friends wanted to practically give her burned down. Now she was stuck party hopping with the entire population of ex-street walkers in LA, living in a completely unliveable apartment that always smelled like wet cats. 

The young brunette sighed, falling onto the couch that seemed to be the source of the smell. She couldn't even get rid of it because it was the only piece of furniture other than her battered coffee table in her living room! Her stomach rumbled loudly, but there was nothing she could do about that now, she just had to wait for her shot. Or the next party.

Was she ever going to catch a break?

* * *

"Where's Doyle?" Angel asked walking through the double doors of the Hyperion. 

"'Where's Doyle?'" Gunn mimiced. "No, 'Hey guys, how've you been?' No, 'Hello Gunn, nice night, huh?'" Gunn scoffed angrily and walked out of the room.

"We don't know what's wrong with him, he's been testy all day," Wesley volunteered.

Angel was still looking at the door. "Right. Where's Doyle?"

"I think he's at his house," Fred said. "He hasn't been here at all today."

Angel gave a terse nod and followed Gunn out the door.

Wesley and Fred shared looks of confusion, and then shrugged. All in a day's work.

* * *

Gunn was sitting on a seat by a window facing the street. Angel stood behind him silently, not really looking at him or the window. 

"Alonna died today," Gunn told him, not looking away from the empty street. "It's been a few years, but I always get really angry. At the vampires, at the world, just...everything." He fell silent, then continued. "I know I've been a pain to you and the gang, but I'll deal. It won't happen again."

"It's a little harder than just dealing with it. You get a lot of slack here, especially when you're not in this business for money or pleasure. Do what you need to do," Angel said not unkindly.

Gunn was so wrapped up in his own thoughts he didn't even hear Angel leave.

* * *

"Doyle!" Angel yelled, pounding on the half-demon's door. 

After much too long, Doyle opened the door. "Angel-man, ya have the most terrible timin' of anyone I've ever met. I feel like complete crap," he mumbled.

"Did your vision include anything else? About that girl? Something you maybe forgot to tell me?" Angel growled, stalking into the room.

Doyle heard the menace in Angel's voice and winced. "Er..."

"Doyle, I need to know these things! What if I wasn't prepared and she killed me? Or what if I was too shocked to help her?" Angel was really angry now, he was pacing the length of the living room, trying frantically to keep from transforming into his game face. Doyle fell into his chair and rubbed his chin nervously.

"It was dark and I didn't know for sure..."

Angel cut him off. "Why didnt you tell me?"

"I was afraid of what you would do, man!" Doyle finally yelled, jumping off his couch. "You'n slayers have a bad history! If I told you, you might've thought about it too much and chickened out, or somethin'."

Angel was about to protest violently, when he realized his movements weren't hindered by the clothing and food that usually littered Doyle's floor. He looked more closely at Doyle and saw he didn't look hungover at all, but stressed. "What've you been doing? Everything's cleaner, you're cleaner," Angel remarked loking at his surroundings.

"Oh, well," Doyle hurridly shuffled around some knickknacks, trying to look busy. "Y'know, just, uh, spring cleanin' an' all that."

Angel moved around, looking at everything. "This other room is completely cleaned out," Angel observed with surprise. He put two and two together and the resulting surprise made him forget his fury just moments earlier. "Doyle, are you getting a roomate?" he asked incredulously.

The half breed stuck his head in the fridge and above the large amount of sound in the form of various clinks and clunks, Angel heard a very muffled, "Yeah..."

"Why didn't you tell me you needed money?" Angel demanded, "I would've paid you more or leant you--  
"--I know ya would, but I didn't want that!" Doyle interrupted, "I have ta pay off my debts on my own. It's not about the money. This is just somethin' I gotta do."

Angel smiled his almost-smile. "Alright. Be sure to tell me when you get a roomate. I'm sure the gang will want to meet him."

"I will," Doyle promised.

Angel turned to leave and was almost out the door when Doyle called him back.

"Yeah?" Angel said, still in the doorway.

"I thought I was doin' the right thing, not tellin' ya," Doyle said.

"I know you did, Doyle. Don't worry about work, just find a roomate." Then he left.

The half-Brakken demon exhaled loudly and fell back onto his unusually clean couch. Man, he needed a drink. Having a guy like Angel mad at you is no joke, but knowing he'd be mad at you for a few days realy drains a person. Especially when he's got a million or so of the most incompetant creeps in LA looking to stay in his apartment.

Doyle ran his hand through his hair tiredly, looking through the shrinking list of applicants. Dory Ma...wel, she's out, he thought, anyone with more than one x in their name is automattically outta the running.

He was just corssing off a Philipeana something or other when there were three sharp knocks on his door.

Please don't let that be Angel, Doyle prayed opening the door.

Definitely not Angel.

A stunning brunette in her twenties beamed at him brightly.

"Hi! I'm Cordelia Chase."

* * *

Jenny walked briskly through the halls of Sunnydale high and studied the ancient, faded words in her hands with enthusiasm. Normally she would've had a different attitude to the grueling work, but she couldn't help be feel invigorated by the dull task. Giles had informed her of the werewolf problem and how Buffy had revealed her past to Faith. Now it was time she do the same for Buffy. 

"Ms. Calender!" Buffy greeted. "Come to see Giles?"

The technopagan smiled at the blonde, "Actually, I came to see you."

"Me?" Buffy asked in surprise.

"You," Giles said, coming out of his office.

"Gee, don't I feel loved," Faith joked, sitting across the table from Buffy.

Ms. Calender nodded to Faith who had become something of a daughter to her. "You need to hear this too, Faith."

Buffy shifted in her seat. "So what's the what?"

"Well..." Ms. Calender started, uneasy now that she was actually going to reveal her secret after so many careful years. "I have to tell you both something."

Buffy and Faith took in her serious demeanor and looked at each other with wide eyes.

Ms. Calender took a deep breath and continued. "Three years ago, my real name was Janna, not Jenny Calender. That was the name I took on when I renounced my old life and my clan."

All the blood in Buffy's face seemed to disappear and she looked as white as a ghost. _Fed on a girl about your age...beautiful...dumb as a post...but a favorite among her clan._

She could remember Angel's words exactly and she knew exactly what that conversation was about.

Ms. Calender took one look at Buffy's pale face and the realization that was dawning in her eyes and knew that there was no going back. Faith, on the other hand, was completely confused and a little worried at the unheathy shade her sister slayer had turned.

"He was the reason you were here, wasn't he?"

All eyes turned to Buffy. Faith looked expectantly at Ms. Calender.

The teacher just nodded sadly, "Yes, he was. Angel was supposed to pay for his crimes."

"And me? What was I supposed to be paying for, huh?" Buffy asked with a quiet fierceness.

"Buffy, you weren't supposed to be hurt at all. Which is why I eventually abandoned my post and refused to help my uncle with his obsessive vengence. But, it was my fault that the arm was brought to Sunnydale, and for that I-I can't apologise enough."

Buffy just stared at the floor with a grim expression on her face.

Ms. Calender looked to Giles for help, but his face was a careful mask, revealing nothing.

"I-I felt as though I had to do something. I felt like Angel's death was all my fault, so I've been researching magic and spells, and...well, I think I know how to bring him back."

Jenny expected an explosion, for Buffy to scream or yell or...something. But there was only silence.

And then very slowly, Buffy's eyes moved up, unseeing, to look at Ms. Calender with such intensity it felt as though her gaze was boring a hole through her.

Almost imperceptibly, Buffy whispered, "You can bring him back?"

So much was riding on that question. Buffy's happiness, Giles's trust, her credibility and sucess as a practicing witch...

"Y-yes, I think I can. I mean, there's always a chance...but I think I can. I need another powerful witch who can handle a spell of this magnitude, and..." the technopagan paused, unnerved by the intense look the slayer was shooting at her, "And I'll need your help. It'll be a little risky, but--"

"I'll do it," Buffy interupted. "Just tell me what I have to do."

Faith watched the exchange with barely concealed awe. Not that it really mattered what her facial expression was like, Buffy was looking at Ms. Calender like she was the key to immortality and Giles was watching them both with a strangly blank look on his face.

Faith would never admit it, but she looked up to Buffy. No matter what was happening, however chaotic and crazy it was, Buffy would _always_ be level-headed and keep her cool. She had this amazing ability to rationally and calmly evalutate a situation and methodically kick total and complete ass. But this time, she wasn't even hearing the terms before rushing into them. And the way she was treating Ms. Calender, like she hadn't known her for five years--it was surreal.

"Oh! Um, great! I...well, here's everything, your instructions are at the end, but you can probably figure it out where you are in all this anyway. I'll...just leave this here with you." She put a thick folder on the table and stood there awkwardly. "So, um, if you need--if you want to ask anything, just ask." She took one last look at Buffy who was looking at the folder as though it was the head of a new demon and then left the library, clearly dejected.

"B?" Faith asked softly. "You alright?"

Buffy blinked a few times, then looked at Faith, as though she hadn't realized she was there. "Oh, yeah, um, I'm fine."

Faith shared a concerned look with Giles who fought the urge to comfort his charge, even though he knew there was nothing he could do to help her--this was a battle she had to fight on her own.

"Giles, I'm, uh, I'm going to call it a day, Faith, you think you can handle patrol--oh! Oz! I totally forgot...I'll be back later then. I'm just going to, um, review this and I'll be back...later." Buffy picked up the folder and walked out the door.

Faith and Giles just stared at the door, not saying anything, and then Giles simply went back into his office, sadness written all over his face.

Faith was left alone, and she tried to sort out her feelings. She felt a little betrayed by this newest revelation, the fact of the matter was, the woman she had looked to as a sort of maternal figure had lied to her and all of the people she cared about for three years. But Faith wasn't there when it meant the most and she felt like she really didn't have a right to be indignant, not when Buffy was going through so much pain. Mostly, she just felt like an outsider.

Sure, she could feel sympathy for her sister slayer and vicariously, maybe even some of her pain, but the truth was she hadn't known anything about Angel a few hours ago and now she was thrown into the biggest emotional hurricane ever to hit Sunnydale since his death. And all she really knew were stories.

Faith sighed and propped her feet on the table. Buffy had saved her life, not when she was fighting Kakistos or in any number of the battles they'd been through, but just by being there when she had come to Sunnydale. She had showed her friendship and made her realize that she wasn't alone.

But just as much as she needed Buffy, Buffy needed her. When she first came to Sunnydale, Buffy opened up her home and her Watcher...or something like that...without a second thought. But there was this empty vibe she got from the senior slayer. Within a week of being around the blonde, she realized Buffy could've been just like an ordinary teenage girl, that she wanted so badly to be normal, but there was something holding her back.

And today she had finally figured out what that was.

Actually, it was all pretty cliche. The perfect heroine lost the love of her life and now her life's purpose is to bring vengence to the one she loved and lost. Whoopdy fucking doo.

But oddly enough, the always cynical Faith had a feeling it was more than that. She had enough respect for Buffy to know that it had to be something pretty big to de-rail her so bad.

Faith looked around at the deserted library and just wished she had been there a few years earlier.

* * *

Riley was walking down the halls, looking at the folder that was just delivered straight from Walsh herself. This could mean one of two things, he thought, taking long strides, trying to ignore the other agents who were looking at him with pity. Either he was demoted to doing some rookie's job, like watching the beaten hostiles, or he had been given another chance and was going to be sent on another mission where he would no doubt kill himself trying to subdue a demon a hundred times stronger than he was. Goody. 

He found himself in his dorm room, sitting on the bed, staring at the manilla paper in his hand. Here goes nothing.

"Graham!"

The agent looked up and was immediately knocked on his ass by Maguire who was smirking down at him.

"Fuck! Finn, you better have--"

"--have you seen this?" Riley waved around a folder, not caring half of the gym was watching him.

Graham rubbed his jaw, knowing it would leave a colorful bruise Maguire would no doubt be laughing at for ages. "No I haven't seen that! I've been down here, sparring for _two _fucki--"

Riley interrupted him again. "We're Team A on capturing a werewolf!"

The entire gym was staring open-mouthed at Agent Riley Finn and he finally realized how unprofessional he was acting. He motioned Graham to follow him and when the heads didn't immediately turn away from him, he barked "Don't you have some thing else to do?"

The room was filled a loud buzzing and the two agents left.

"A werewolf? No shit!"

Riley scowled at the curse, but said nothing. He was close to swearing himself.

"This is punishment for the hostile that was terminated. It wasn't our fault! We followed the plans perfectly, but that son of a bitch just brushed us off like we were fucking flies or something!" Graham ranted.

"Walsh thinks we can do it," Riley remarked quietly.

Graham glared at him. "A werewolf? Do you know what those things can _do_!"

"It gets better," Riley told him, opening the door to their room.

"How could it possibly get any better than this?" Graham demanded, closing the door behind him. "Maybe we need to bring the hostile back to life too."

"We have to bring in a wolf, and we don't even know where it would be. We don't have any leads or anything," Riley said.

Graham stared. "Let me get this straight, we have to subdue a werewolf that we don't know exists?"

Riley looked around the room, helplessly, "Well, it's Sunnydale. There's bound to be one lurking around somewhere."

"This is great! Just GREAT!" He kicked the door open and there was a squeak and a few thuds.

Both agents looked at each other and their hands immediately strayed to their guns. Riley peered out first, and immediately relaxed.

On the floor was a red headed girl, clutching her forehead with one hand and trying to pick up her books with the other. "Willow, right?"

Willow looked up at the kind eyes of Riley Finn and turned bright red. "Y-yeah. Sorry I bothered you, I...was just walking in the hall, not pacing or anything, because you were pretty busy a-and I needed to talk to you, and I didn't hear anything I swear! Well, I did heard your roomate yell "great" and then I pretty much fell down and then you're here and now you're here. So...that's pretty much where we are now and I'm going to stop talking."

Graham saw that it was TA business, so he left Riley to take care of it while he fumed silently in his room.

"It's alright, Willow. We were just about done anyway. What did you need to talk to me about?"

Quickly, they discussed assignments and Riley promised to give her a heads up on the next test. Then Riley took a deep breath and went into his room to face his red-faced roomate.

Willow, on the other hand, tried to keep from hyper-ventilating. She had never been very good at lying, but thankfully Riley had taken her fumbling for embarrassement. Because the truth was, she_ had _heard, and it was only with the magical alarms she set, that she had any time to move her head away from the door at all. In hindsight it would've been wiser to use magic to spy from a distance, but the last time she tried that spell, her ears turned a unnaturally bright pink whenever the spell was in effect and she didn't know if it might one day be permanent, so she tended to steer away from those spells.

But Riley, Riley Finn, the nice, All American TA for her psychology class was involved in the supernatural? And some government organization too, from the sound of it. I mean, come on, who in their right mind would call something a "hostile"? A government organization, that's who!

So, Willow thought furiously, not noticing the campus pass her by as she walked on autopilot to her dorm. There was a top secret government organization here to collect, well, werewolves today, but what about tomorrow? Demons? Vampires even? She had to tell Buffy!

Willow sprinted down the street, making a bee line for her old high school library.

* * *

Fin! Ahah! So, SO glad that one's done. I promise more chapters are forthcoming, though, I fear they will be even slower than the last. Sadly my time in the Buffyverse is limited to sane amounts and the "real world" is monopolizing all of my attentions. Even this is on borrowed time, but I will some how finish this story; even this far in I'm still really psyched about it and I WILL finish! A big **THANK YOU** to all of those you reviewed, I looked at my Stats page and was pleasantly surprised to see that I can now find out how many people have viewed the page, which brought the number of people who viewed (and hopefully read) my story MUCH higher. But for those of you who took the time to actually stop and review the story, thank you, you're all so great. There is no greater joy than a pretty little column of emails from in my inbox. Hopefully all the storylines seem to be merging in a more noticable way and you ALL know what that leads to. I'll get there, don't worry. In the mean time **REVIEW!**


	12. Personal

She felt him the moment he entered the crowded room. She'd been waiting for him for the last three hours, but she was still thrown by the presence he had. She'd forgotten about that. It didn't matter, she had a job to do and she was going to do it no matter what. Taking another look at his cocky smile and easy stride, Faith decided she needed some reinforcement after all and made a bee line to the bar.

"Whiskey."

Though she only said one word, her too small, too low top said all that she needed to get the finest alcohol in the house. Her throat burned as she downed it all in one go, and she nearly coughed it all back up when a pair of cold arms encased in leather slipped around her waist.

"Havin' fun, luv?"

Faith suppressed a shudder, but managed to say "Not yet. Any suggestions?"

Spike buried his face in the crook of her neck, and Faith willed herself not to tense. He knew she was the slayer, he said he had a chip, and he wouldn't be so stupid as to kill her in the middle of the Bronze. However clueless the residents of Sunnydale were, they generally didn't miss open killings in their midst. After a deep breath, Spike spoke. "Let's go."

He pulled her along the path she knew to be the most direct route to his crypt, but once she got to the graveyard, she was impatient. She wanted to end this now, and if they got to his crypt, there was no way she could resist the temptation his cold, but very well toned body presented. She pushed him up against a nearby tree and cut off his swarthy remark by jamming her hand into his throat.

"What the hell are you playing at?" she demanded. Her blood was racing through her veins and adrenaline rushed through her body at warp speed. She relaxed her grip just enough to let him reply, but her other hand was placed firmly on her stake.

"Bloody h-uhkhhhh," Spike's voice was cut off again.

"One more time, without the extras, blondie. What the HELL are you planning?" Faith demanded whipping out her weapon.

Spike's wide eyes looked at the stake, then at her. After a moment, his eyes narrowed, but he didn't say anything.

"Come on, Spikie! Let's have it!" Faith screamed, trying desperately to ignore the hurt she saw him trying to hide. She cared that he looked betrayed and the fact she cared made her hate herself more.

He just stared stonily at her, not making a sound.

"I mean it! I'm not afraid to kill you!" Faith pressed her stake right above his heart, unable to keep her hand from trembling.

Spike still said nothing.

"TELL ME!"

The stake cut through his shirt and a small amount of blood soaked the material.

Her whole body was trembling violently now and her eyes were wild. Her mind whirled with everything Buffy had told her, about Angel, about how Spike killed Angel, about Drusilla...

Faith pulled the stake back and slammed it down into his chest.

Her raw scream mixed with his roar of pain when she felt the weapon sink into his flesh.

The slayer fell to her knees, as if she had been completely sapped of all her energy, and began to sob uncontrollably. She sat heavily on the ground and drew her knees up, tears overflowing. What have I done? she wondered, repeating the question in her head over and over. What have I done?

When Faith fell to the ground, Spike almost followed her, unbalanced once her hand had left his neck. But he clung to the tree behind him and tried to steady himself. Panting heavily, Spike slowly reached up and ripped the stake from his chest with a sucking sound that was almost as painful as the action. He groaned loudly and it just made Faith sob all the harder.

Shaking his head to clear the pain, he looked at the girl at his feet and without a second thought, dropped to his knees and gathered her gently in his arms.

"Shh...it's alright, luv. It'll be alright," he whispered in her ear.

Faith gripped his jacket and clung to his chest, careful to avoid his right side, where a really nasty hole gave her a nice view of his lungs. She turned away from the wound she had inflicted, but didn't let go.

'It's alright," Spike repeated, looking around the graveyard, warding against an outside attack. "Everything'll be alright."

* * *

Buffy clutched the yellow package in her hands as tightly as she dared, trying to hold onto the last threads of her slipping self control. After so many years of waiting, she would finally be able to bring him back. The reality of the situation left her emotions in an absolute mess.

As she walked to her old house, Buffy felt the smallest spark of hope, something she had long forgotten. For the first time in years she looked up at the sky, and simply enjoyed watching the stars swirl above her as she spun around on Earth.

Before, whenever she looked at the night sky she'd be reminded of happy times and it got to a point where it'd just be painful to relive those lost days.

But tonight she allowed her guard to drop and she twirled around inconsequentially, feeling at peace. Angel was coming back and all would be well. As she climbed up the tree outside her bedroom window, Buffy smiled slightly at her actions; after all, her mother was in LA on a buying trip.

Some habits just die hard, I guess, she thought, sliding through her window and getting ready for bed. It was good to have a routine in her life, some normalcy she could count on. Even if it was just a small thing like sneaking into her empty house.

Buffy snuggled under the covers and relaxed her tired body into the cleaning-smelling sheets. She hugged Mr. Gordo and sighed.  
It was good to keep him here, she thought sleepily. I like having him here when I sleep over. It was something that happened increasingly less as Angel's apartment felt more and more like home that the one she used to live in. But Mr. Gordo was a part of her life that she'd never forget and he was separate from Angel. Sure Angel held him once, but Mr. Gordo belonged first and foremost to her and her childhood.

Sometimes it felt like Angel dominated her entire life, and she was helpless to stop it. After all, she had a life, she was the Slayer for crying out loud! And to be honest, on occasion she did feel pathetic, to be in an almost perpetual state of depression over a guy. But every time she thought that, she'd remember that Angel wasn't just some guy, he was the guy, the one person in her entire existence who made her feel completely happy.

That didn't seem so pathetic.

She'd even tried to convince herself that Angel would want her to move on, to be happy. Once one of those moments coincided with one of Faith's early attempts to "pull out that stick up her ass" and the end result was a lot of uncomfortable dancing that made her feel even more hollow than before.

But when Angel came back, she could get past that, she could move past the unattainable dream of something she could never have and really live again.

She was about to empty out the contents of the envelope, but she stopped herself. Some indescribable feeling made her not want to do this here. She wanted to be at Angel's when she first read about his resurrection. And if years of slaying had taught her anything, it was that she should trust her instincts.

So, she snuck back out through her window and made her way across town. All the while thinking,

I'm going to get him back. I'll get him back.

* * *

After the two slayers had left, Giles attempted to brush up on werewolf lore, but his heart just wasn't in it. He saw the look of his first charge's face when Jenny told her the news, and if he wasn't mistaken, Faith wasn't looking too well at this sudden rush of information.

Poor girl, he thought thinking of Faith's life. First, she feels rather isolated, then I'm afraid we've overwhelmed her with our troubles. But

Faith's sudden initiation to Buffy's complex past was a fleeting problem, Giles feared Buffy wouldn't ever be able to fully recover from the events of this night. If the spell worked, it would signal the rebirth of the old Buffy Summers the one he only glimpsed infrequently now, but if it failed...

Giles sighed and wiped his glasses on his handkerchief. If they couldn't somehow bring back Angel, he feared Buffy would lose her will to fight. Perhaps the will to...NO! He wouldn't think that. What kind of Watcher was he, to make pointless, baseless assumptions about the future?

They would bring Angel back, Giles was sure of that. The alternative was unthinkable.

And then there was Jenny. He kept himself from taking either side during the actual confrontation, but he felt badly for both. He knew that Buffy would ultimately be grateful to Jenny, but at the present time, Buffy was too emotional and was perhaps a bit harsher to Jenny than she deserved. But he would support his slayer, no matter what the situation, and no matter what personal loss.

He may not be the best Watcher, after all, he very much doubted any slayer in history had suffered as much as Buffy had, but he took his duty very seriously and he had no doubts whatsoever as to where his loyalties lay.

Sometimes he wondered about his unique situation and the fact that there were two slayers. Initially, he was very disturbed by it. Unlike Buffy, who he knew saw Faith first as a mark of her own failure, then as something of a sister, the existence of Faith threw all of his beliefs as a Watcher into question. And still one question went unanswered. If he had to chose between the two, Buffy or Faith, who would he pick?

He never thought too long or hard about it, because he feared he knew the answer all too well. And he feared his two slayers already knew his decision.

But which ever he picked, the other would always have priority over anyone else in the world, including himself. So the question was, would Buffy and Faith hold it against him if he went to speak with Jenny? Would they feel betrayed or question if his judgment was affected by personal relations? Surely they wouldn't be so petty.

But Giles knew he was being too hopeful and began to analyze the situation in earnest, as objectively as possible. Buffy will not be happy, he admitted, but she would undoubtedly understand. And even if he didn't know Jenny on such a personal level, her level of distress was so great that he felt like she was in need of some comforting.

His mind made up, Giles placed a ribbon to mark his place in his book and went off in search of the lonely techno pagan.

* * *

Oz casually strolled through the streets of Sunnydale, a canvas backpack on his shoulder, a little more than half an hour before sunset. He went through his mental checklist once more. He had made his excuses, prepped his clothes, and was prepared to put his life on hold for a few nights. Walking through the double doors, he scanned what appeared to be an empty library. He looked behind the counter and in Giles's office, but no one was there. 

Odd, he thought. He didn't know Buffy that well, though Willow had mentioned her a few times, but he got the feeling she took her job really seriously. He'd learned to trust his instincts, they were usually right. That's why he was such a good test taker, but it had led to other advantages as well. So when Faith, who looked crude, but he thought would never break a promise, a slayer he thought to be very serious, and what seemed to be an annoyingly punctual British librarian all failed to appear at their designated times, he was a little worried.

A little.

Well, he was early. Oz checked the clock. They still had two minutes.

He pulled out a few towels and tied them up to sides of the cage, for a little privacy after he changed back. Giles promised that he would be on the last shift and, though he didn't say it so many words, not Faith, so that things would be less awkward. But still, a little precaution never hurt anyone.

He placed his bag on a chair next to the cage, making sure that it would be well out of reach for the werewolf him. His preparations took less than three minutes, but when he glanced at the clock, he noticed they were all officially late.

He quickly debated the intelligence of going out to find them, but he wasn't sure he trusted the timing of the transformation to be at exactly sunset, so he just walked into the cage and examined the small space. It was cleared of some of the more hazardous weapons and materials that occupied the area when he first came in, so he knew they hadn't completely forgotten about their little rendezvous.

He looked up and noticed a small window near the ceiling. He didn't think he could reach it, but he dragged a chair inside the cage and locked it just to make sure. Then he dragged the chair back out and waited anxiously for someone to show up.

Even though he was slightly scared by this new development, and the people he had turned to for help had disappeared off the face of the Earth, his mind wasn't on the current situation.

After high school, his band had broken up, partly because half the members wanted to go to college, partly because Devon, their lead singer, had been killed by a vampire. Then he was held back from school due to attendance errors. Now he was a werewolf because he little cousin Jordy didn't like to be tickled.

But through all of it, he could always count on Willow to be there for him.

Which is why he was thinking about her, thinking up ways to make up for his lack of attention and his general aloof attitude. He had to tell her, of course, but he dreaded the thought she might reject him. He didn't like to dwell on those kinds of things as a rule, but he wondered what he would do if the woman he loved didn't want to live with a werewolf. The fact that she was a practicing witch did help tilt the odds in his favor, but still.

He just hoped she would understand.

Willow stood, looking uneasy at the sight of the familiar double doors of the Sunnydale High library. Even after she'd made her own life, one that wasn't dependant on Oz, or Xander, or Buffy, she still thought of that library as the place where she first became Willow.

But even more immediate than that, she was a little worried about what everyone would do when she walked in. She didn't know if Buffy would yell at her, or pretend that she wasn't there, or not listen to her, or try to beat her up like she did with Xander, or...

Willow went on listing gruesome possibilities in her head before she realized she was just standing in the middle of a high school hallway, staring at a the doors of the library like an idiot.

Well, it's now or never, she thought, taking a deep breath and walking in. Willow had prepped herself to give an empowered and passionate speech, but when she got into the room, the only one there was the last person she expected to see.

"Oz?"

* * *

"Oz?" 

Cordelia nodded brightly, but was slightly annoyed and trying to hide it. Was this guy going to ask her about every name that was on her reference list? "Yup, Oz. His real name is Daniel, but everyone calls him Oz. He was the lead guitar player of the band Dingos Ate My Baby before they broke up. And he's Willow's special friend."

Doyle frowned in thought. "And this would be the Willow who graduated at the top of her class and is now going to UC Sunnydale?"

Cordelia grinned so hard she thought her face would split, but she was desperate and this guy was the first one who didn't seem like a complete goon. "That's right!"

"Well, Miss...Chase," Doyle said, sizing up the beautiful brunette, "When can you move in?"

"Really?" Cordelia asked, and when Doyle nodded, she smiled, a real one this time, and threw her arms around him. "Thank you! You won't regret it! When I'm rich and famous I'll totally remember this. Thank you!"

Doyle was unaware of the dreamy look plastered on his face when she hugged him, but he did know that his initial doubts about letting a vain and what he predicted might be a pushy actress live in his beloved apartment melted away. What happened would happen, but in the mean time, he was really going to enjoy this.

* * *

"Angel!"

The vampire relaxed and moved out of the shadowed corner to open the door. Doyle closed it behind him and followed Angel into the living room, so excited, he didn't even comment on his friend's lack of greeting.

"Guess what?"

Angel's answer was sitting down in his favorite leather chair.

Clearly used to it by now, Doyle went on, "I got my new room mate!"

Angel raised an eyebrow. "Demon?"

Doyle grinned. "Better. Brunette."

"Ah." So it was a woman. That's interesting, Angel thought.

"Her name's Cordelia Chase an--"

Angel's eyes flew up. "--Cordelia Chase?"

"Yeah," Doyle affirmed, noting the stricken look on his face. "What, old girlfriend?"

"No." Angel said, his thoughts running wild. They can't leave the past alone, can they, he thought angrily. First the slayer, now Cordelia. He looked hard at Doyle. "Don't mention me. You didn't, did you?"

The crazed look in his eyes surprised Doyle. "No, why would I?"

Angel heaved an internal sigh of relief. "No reason." And Cordelia Chase, too. It couldn't have been someone mellow, like Willow, it had to be Cordelia.

Doyle eyed his friend curiously. "Angel-man, what's going on? Ye' develop a sudden rash fer beautiful women?"

Angel was staring at the unlit fireplace, barely breathing. "Didn't you do a background check on her, Doyle?" When the half breed looked shocked and then worried, he continued. "Cordelia, or Queen C, I believe it was, is from Sunnydale."

"Yea, I think she mention'd somthin' 'bout it..." Doyle responded, "Wait...Queen C--OH!" Suddenly he felt as though he'd just discovered the log he was sitting on was an alligator. "Ye mean, Cordelia an'...y'know. She knew 'er?"

Angel nodded and rubbed the back of his neck with a sigh. "She's a handful, but human. Just...don't talk about me, alright? I don't think I could deal with it."

Doyle nodded vigorously, his hat bobbing wildly. "O'course, Angel. No problem." He was nervously inching towards the door, when he hesitantly asked, "...anytin' else I can do?"

Angel didn't respond, already lost in his thoughts...and his memories.

"Right..." Doyle murmured, feeling considerably worse than when he first walked in. But there was nothing to be done. Angel had his demons, and unfortunately for him, they were all still alive. As far as Doyle could see, when Angel-boy would finally be in the clear is when everyone who knew that slayer of his was dead. That or when he was dead. Either way, Doyle didn't think he'd be around long enough to see it. Especially not if those Powers were always--

"AH!"

Doyle's hand flew to his head and he was jerking spastically in the middle of a busy LA street. After an eternity of agony, he lifted his blurry eyes and tried to recover from the pain and decipher the images. "Oh, man." If Angel thought Cordelia was bad, he was really going to hate this.

* * *

"Commander," Agent Miller's voice buzzed in through Riley's headset. "We've been out here for three hours and we haven't found so much as a fucking puppy!"

He better be using the private link for a comment like that, Riley fumed, glaring at the green scenery through his night vision goggles. "Agent Miller! That is not proper military language and--"

"Shut it, Riley! We're on the verge of being kicked out all together! I don't care if it's "proper military" anything! We're here to find a fucking werewolf that's clearly no where to be found!" Graham yelled.

"Sir!"

Riley blocked out Graham's line and listened to Unit 02. "You got something for me, Agent Krush?"

"I think I have a lead, sir. Come look at this." The solider rattled off his coordinates, and as Riley approached, he saw a distinctive trail. Angry at the lack of caution on the agent's part, Riley was about to lecture him on the dangers of such a careless attitude when he nearly walked right over the biggest paw prints he'd ever seen.

"Oh my--"

"What do you reckon, sir? I think we found ourselves a wolf."

* * *

So, there's been an edit. I decided that Buffy's section was just a little too angst and not at all what I wanted to her to feel when learning about Angel, so I changed it. Not much else changed except I caught a few typos that I hadn't seen before. Hope you guys like this new version better. But such I'm not dead! And there will be more chapters to come, this is not a dead story, as amazing as that is. I'm still working on it. Just very, very, very slowly. I want to thank EVERYONE who's reviewed, even when the update date seemed really discouraging. Those reivews are just the highlight of my day. So **THANK YOU!** to everyone who's done that. But for now, enjoy. 


	13. Oh, Willy

"Oz?"

From inside the cage, the musician's head snapped towards the double doors, suddenly very aware of his naked state. "Willow!" An actual panicked expression contorted his face. "This isn't--"

"Hey, B. Oz down with his bad sel--" Faith stopped short when she saw an unfamiliar face staring at her. "Who the hell are you?"

Willow saw red. First she finds her recently distant boyfriend naked in a cage and then this _slut_ who's taken her place as Buffy's best friend waltzes in here and has the gall to ask _her_ who she was?

"Me? **_ME?!_**" Willow screamed.

"Will--" Oz's voice was cut off with a chocking sound as his neck started to elongate and his teeth grew too big for his mouth.

Willow turned to yell at him, but watch in horror as his face mutated before her eyes. "What did you do to him?!" Willow yelled, her temper completely out of control. Immediately Willow felt her pupils dilate and the electric tingle of magic spread through her body.

Faith vaguely recalled Willow as the name of Buffy's shitty ex-best friend before being flung against the nearest wall. Her slayer-self kicked in and she immediately went on the offensive, looking to tear off the restraining limb.

But Faith only clawed air.

With wide eyes, the slayer looked for Willow who was glaring at her with black eyes, purple sparks jumping off her skin. Faith felt a bolt of fear shoot through her, her opinion of the fuzzy-looking redhead completely revised.

"What did you do?" Willow felt power surge through her and it strengthened her rage. "What did you DO?!"  
Faith choked and the edges of her vision were starting to darken.

Willow's head whipped to left and she saw Buffy strolling through the double doors.

"Hey, Giles, sorry I'm so late. I--Willow. Faith." After a split second of shock, Buffy sprang into action, tackling Willow to the ground.

With a jerk, Faith fell to the floor and gasped for breath, clutching her bruised throat. Recovering, Faith prepared to jump into the fray, but it seemed that Buffy was well prepared to subdue a witch and had the girl solidly pinned to the library floor.

Willow was slowly calming down, and Buffy started to ease the pressure, but suddenly her head cocked to the side and her grip tightened.

The entrance of the library opened once more and Giles shuffled in, buried in a book. "Oz, I assume..." Giles caught sight of Buffy in a compromising position with her former friend and gasped. "Buffy! Get off her!"

At first, Buffy resisted, but when it was apparent that Willow was under control, she relented.

Rather than being set off by yet another person, Willow realized that whatever she thought was going on couldn't be that bad if Giles was involved. With his help, she managed to rise shakily to her feet.

"Buffy! I am appalled! I'm aware of your-your, animosity towards Willow, but that is _no_ reason to attack the poor girl! This is simply unacceptable! No matter what your personal emotions are, I-I expect you to be professional, and objective. I would have expected better of you," Giles scolded. When he spotted Faith calmly leaning against the wall, Giles started up again. "And Faith! How could you let this happen? It's one thing to be caught up in a fit of passion, but as soon as this occurred, you should have done something!"

Faith's only response was to glare dangerously at Willow.

Ashamed of herself, Willow said, "No, Giles, it was my fa..." Willow trailed off when a loud growl brought her attention to the cage and she saw an angry wolf eyeing them. "W-w-where's oz? D-d-did h-he g-get..." she gestured to the cage, "...uh, e-eaten?"

"Guess you don't know as much about your boyfriend as you thought, didya, Red?" Faith taunted.

"Be quiet, Faith," Giles ordered quietly. Faith looked as though he'd slapped her. "Willow, Oz is a, uh. He's um..."

The watcher looked to Buffy for help, but she just shrugged indifferently. After all, she did promise Oz she wouldn't say anything to Willow. he probably didn't mean for those words to apply in this situation, but a promise was a promise.

"Oz is a, uh, well, he's a a-a werewolf," Giles stuttered, not looking at her.

Willow gasped and Giles guided her to a chair. She sank down mechanically, still shocked by the news.  
"I, um. How long?"

"He just suspected it yesterday," Giles assured. "He wasn't even sure if it was true, he just knew something was wrong. I-I'm sure he meant to tell you."

Willow nodded distractedly. "Yeah..."

There was an awkward silence. Willow was in obvious need of comfort and everyone there was either unwilling or unable to provide it. Finally, Giles cleared his throat.

"Alright, well, now that it appears Oz is, in fact, the werewolf, and now that Willow knows, I see no reason why we should all stand watch. Willow you can take the first shirt and--"

"Excellent. See ya later B, Jeeves, "Faith called over her shoulder, walking out.

Giles sighed internally. Faith never failed to call him that when she was annoyed with him.

"Right. Where were we? Ah, so Willow can take the first shift and seeing as how..." Giles looked skeptically at the witch, and Buffy caught his eye, thinking the same thing. Would she be able to handle Oz if he got out of the cage? Or more importantly, could they take that chance?

"I'll stay."

Willow looked up in surprise, but Giles was suspicious, especially after the incident not half an hour prior.

"Are you sure? I have no problems staying here, I'll be up researching all night anyway."

Buffy shook her head. "No, Giles. I'll be alright. I have some homework I need to do for tomorrow. Major test coming up next week."

Giles looked at Willow, who was a bit nervous, but Buffy was adamant. After a few well placed pouts and a couple of jokes, Giles left with the promise to return in exactly three hours.

Buffy settled down at the desk, and Willow cringed, waiting for some kind of verbal attack.

Fifteen seconds had passed. Willow started to sweat. The anticipation was worse that anything Buffy might throw at her. Thirty seconds...a minute... Willow peered through her hair and to her surprise, Buffy wasn't watching or glaring at her, she was...doing her homework.  
Willow turned around and openly stared at the sight of Buffy bent over the same Psych textbook that Willow had spent hours reading, diligently doing genuine homework.

It jarred her. Yes, things were different and they had been for a really long time. Willow could accept that. But here...the library was untouched in her mind. It was a place of good and happy memories. When they were kids, the library and Giles was the one thing they could always count on, it never occurred to her that it would ever be anything except Scooby Headquarters. And now, watching Buffy act so differently in a place that was once so familiar made her realize just how much everything had changed. Willow knew Buffy did well in class, but seeing her do homework in the library when before she would have done anything but, was startling.

Buffy, on the other hand, was staunchly ignoring Willow's radiating distress. _Good, _she thought, _let her feel bad something for once.  
_Willow shifted uneasily. It was weird being so uncomfortable with someone she once told everything to. But she couldn't think of anything to say to her once-best-friend. She opened her mouth a dozen times, but she always stopped herself, retreating to the safe ground of silence.

The background noise of Oz's growls and snaps brought Willow out of her thoughts and she couldn't bear the strained silence.

"Are you ever going to forgive us?" Willow sighed hopelessly.

Buffy looked up. Willow's unexpecting demeanor made her pause.

Willow squirmed under Buffy's stare, not sure what the slayer was thinking.

"Do you even know why I'm angry?"

_Present tense,_ Willow thought. "Well...we weren't sympathetic enough to you when you needed us most," Willow said, suddenly unsure if that was the answer.

Buffy laughed. "That sounds so simple. Wouldn't life be easier if it was just that simple?"

Willow frowned, confused. "So...it wasn't us being insensitive?"

"That was part of it."

Willow waited for Buffy to continue, but it seemed she was satisfied with that remark.

"...So what was it?"

Buffy stared hard at her textbook for a minute. When she saw Oz come through those double doors, she knew it was a connection to the past. But if she'd known that it would lead to _this _conversation...she sighed and said, "It was partly because you guys all decided to gang up against me on something I needed your support on, but that's just what made me mad. The problem was something more complicated than that."

Willow turned her full attention on the slayer. She'd never realized there was something more to it, though, now that she thought about it, it only made sense. Buffy wasn't the type to just drop her friends without good reason.

"I'm different. I am. I don't think I was ever quite normal. In LA I tried really hard to fit in and I succeeded. By being the most popular I was more like everyone else that I could've been by being myself."

Buffy put her pencil down and leaned back. "Then I came here and tried to fit in yet again. But I wasn't happy with my life in Hemery, so I tried a different approach, and I fell in with you guys. I thought it was great, that it was everything I was looking for. And I was happy, but only because you can't really miss what you don't know. It was as close as I was going to get to being accepted. Or so I thought."

Buffy smiled happily. "Then I met Angel. And for the first time in my life, I was normal. I was accepted. I was exactly where I was meant to be. And what happened? I was told time and time again that it was wrong. That I should feel guilty for even considering taking solace in that one tiny reprieve in my otherwise horrible life. Angel gave me what no one else ever could. What's more is he tried so hard. All he needed to do was be himself and I would feel like the most special person I the world. But still he tried. And that's something almost no one had done. Giles and Jenny and even you guys tried for a while, but when it comes down to it, if it was between my life and yours, if I could save the world by dying, that's the option you would pick. You might feel terrible and guilty for the rest of your life, but that's what you would choose. You over me. But not Angel. He would give everything, his life, his happiness, everything, if it meant I had the chance of being happy."

Willow fought back a sob, tears cascading down her face. She wanted to argue, to say that they were there for her, that none of it was true. But her past actions said otherwise.

"What was most terrible is that you knew, not knew in the sense that you could understand it, but you knew there was something you couldn't understand. You knew how important Angel was to me, if not why, and you were jealous. If I had to choose, if I had to pick between you and Angel, I'd pick him. You knew it. But you would have me feel guilty about it for the rest of my life for it. You would want me to suffer for the rest of my life over something that I couldn't help. And Angel was working for you. He would have begged me to pick you and forget him, to live my life in happiness even if he wasn't there with me. What a monster!" Buffy mocked.

Willow wiped her eyes. "But.." She stopped herself and mumbled an apology,

"What? No, what Willow? I want to hear it."

Willow looked up, eyes red and blazing. "You're blaming us for being human, Buffy! Everyone wants to live, that's just how people are. Fight of flight, it's right in front of you!" Willow pointed at the psych book on the table. "They might determine who is brave and who's a coward, but those are the two options. And while they apply to different people in different situations, they all lead to one thing: survival. It's programmed into our most basic instincts; we want to live. You're faulting us for being human!"

Buffy had a strange smile on her face. "You still don't understand, do you?

Willow started. What was she talking about?

"I'm not. I'm not human. I'm the slayer. Human isn't good enough. It isn't good enough because I'm only given a third option. I have to pick survival too, but just not for me. I have to choose the survival of everyone else. So _human_ isn't good enough. Angel wasn't human. Faith isn't human. Giles isn't human."

"Giles is!" Willow burst out.

Buffy fixed her with a cold stare. "Giles is a watcher. If he's human, he's beyond anyone you've ever met. He's trained to take hours of torture and still get information out of the person who is torturing him. Could you withstand that without cracking under the pressure and betraying everything you believe in?"

Willow dropped her gaze and shook her head, unable to speak through the absolute misery that filled her.

"I once told Kendra," Buffy mused, "That people you love aren't a liability, they help you fight harder than you ever could alone. That they're the reason why I would give up my life for a world that wouldn't give anything for mine. But you know, I shouldn't have to deal with friends who follow that same philosophy. And I have people in my life who won't betray me for their own reasons. I don't need liabilities. Sometimes...love just isn't enough."

Willow snapped her head up, but Buffy wouldn't meet her eyes. Connecting all the dots for the first time in a long time, Willow felt the  
stirrings of hope. Maybe Buffy still felt something for her old friends after all."I-I'm sorry."

Buffy didn't respond and Willow sank deep into her own thoughts.

Looking down at her textbook, Buffy whispered so softly Willow didn't hear, "I'm sorry, too."

* * *

"Go easy, luv. That energy could be spent on much better activities."Faith ignored him and the involuntary smile that briefly tugged at her lips when she heard him approach. But keeping herself professional, Faith finished fighting a vampire that was already so bruised and battered, he probably would've fallen down if Faith would stop hitting him. The slayer spun around to execute a round house kick, when a strong hand caught her foot and then proceeded to worm it's way up her pants.

"Spike!" Faith gasped, almost losing her balance.

"What? Just helping my slayer do her duty. The wanker was annoying anyway," Spike said.

Faith knew she should be offended or say something, but his hand had reached her knee and her other leg was wobbling dangerously.

"Spike..."

With a sigh, he removed his hand, a thrill of masculine satisfaction at the whimper Faith let out. "What's wrong, ducks?"

"What?" Faith responded too quickly. "Nothing. Nothing's wrong. Why would you think that?"

Spike lit a cigarette and took a long drag. "Just the fact you nearly made four eyes there into vampire pudding."

Faith glared but said nothing.

"Faith..."

She knew it was a losing battle, he'd get her to talk one way or another. It helped that she ran out here to look for him. "I'm not saying anything. Guess you'll just have to beat it out of me." Faith grinned and took off at a sprint. Spike chuckled and ran after her.

* * *

A few hours later, Faith was lounging comfortably against Spike's bare chest. She lightly touched the red, raw patch on his right side.

"Does it hurt?"Spike laughed. "Not as much as these welts on my back, luv."Faith grinned evilly, she'd practically clawed him, hadn't she?

She snuggled closer and sobered up. "You know I didn't...I mean, I never meant to..."

"I know," Spike shushed her. He debated silently, but finally asked, "What made you do it?"

Faith stiffened and drew away. "A lot of things. I..." She hugged herself and Spike knew better than to reach for her. Faith had been so happy these last few days. Well, it hadn't been paradise what with the emotional roller coaster she'd been on, but the happy moments were definitely up there on the top ten of happy moments. And now, knowing what he'd done and what Buffy would say, what she would do if--when she found out...

Faith shut her eyes tight and hating herself for every syllable, said, "Spike, I think you need to leave."

Spike stared. "I'm not going anywhere."

Faith turned to look at him, trying to convey just how important this was. "No, Spike you need to leave Sunnydale. If you stay..."

"If I stay, what?"

"If you stay she'll kill you." Faith told him seriously. "There's nothing you or I could say that would stop her. As soon as she finds out you're here, you're as good as dust."

There was no doubt as to who "she" was.

Spike also knew that this was the cause for the stabbing. "And if she comes after me, what'll you do?"

Faith didn't meet his eyes. "I've already picked my side," she answered elusively.

"Alright, luv. I get it." Spike stood up and put on his clothes as Faith huddled under the covers. "See you around, slayer," Spike said angrily, walking out.

Faith hugged herself tighter, a lone tear slipping down her cheek. The moment she let Spike live she'd chosen her side. She chose him. And now he'd never know because she couldn't face Buffy with that decision.

* * *

Stomping out of the crypt, Spike had never felt so angry or heartbroken in his entire life. Well, maybe when Dru died, but that was different. That stupid bitch had the nerve to dump him first! Said he wasn't...well, that was the point now, was it? The point was Faith, the silly, slutty, sexy girl that she was, had turned him out of his own damn crypt right after stabbing him in the fucking chest! "What kind of person _does_ that?!" Spike wondered aloud. "A right, bloody psycho, that's who!"

Lighting a cigarette, Spike took a long drag. "An' I can't even kill the bitch 'cause of this bloody chip!"

He kicked the ground and huffed. He didn't want to kill the chit. He wanted nothing more than to go back in and fuck her bloody brains out. That killed him even more. He couldn't even hate her properly!

"Fuckin' slayer!"

Flicking the cigarette away, he took a small comfort in the dramatic way his trench coat billowed behind him. God, he need to get completely pissed. He needed to go to Willy's.

* * *

His throat felt like sand paper and his heart was pounding so loudly in his ears, Riley was afraid he'd lose the trail. But the growls and yips were getting louder and the clear trail told him the wolf was tiring. _About time_, he thought. His team had managed to shock it six times, but the wolf always avoided a capture. After hours of chasing, Riley was the only one left of his team still on the wolf's trail. But even his constant training had its limits and humans simply weren't built to run after wolves. Or werewolves. _Wouldn't it be great if this turned out to be a regular wolf? _Riley thought sarcastically. no agent actually saw its face, but from what they gathered, if it was a normal wolf, it was a huge one. Re-adjusting his tazer, Riley pushed past some trees and instinctively threw himself back.

SNAP!

Fumbling with tazer, Riley hit the ground heavily, barely missing the angry jaws of the wolf. Thrusting the weapon over his head, he felt it sink into something soft and heard an angry yowl. Scrambling back up, adrenaline flooded his system and he spun around to face a severely burned and incredibly angry werewolf. Barely taking time to recover, the wolf leapt once more and Riley instinctively thrust his weapon out and winced as the clash jarred his already tired body. Screaming for backup, Riley knew that they wouldn't get here in time and if he planned on getting out of this alive, he had to save himself. And he had to do something NOW. With the wolf's muzzle three inches in front of his face, he could feel its saliva spray all over him, those impossibly large fangs just moments away from ripping him to shreds.

Oh. Shit.

With one last burst of energy, he shoved as hard as he could and the wolf fell to the ground with a yip. And by some enormous stroke of luck, it fell just the wrong way and a hind leg twisted in a way Riley was sure wolves couldn't twist. He struck it twice more with his tazer and it collapsed into a smoking heap.Panting heavily, Riley wanted nothing more than to lay down and sleep, but he had no idea how long this thing would be unconscious. So by supreme effort of will, he barked instructions to his team and kept a wary on the wolf. Hopefully nothing else would go wrong.

* * *

"I don't know much 'bout it, 'cept these guys'r dangerous. Dey don't care what y'are, only if yer not human."

The fang gang was all assembled for the meeting, Angel near the head, but in the shadows.

"Do we have to stop them?" Angel asked.

Doyle thought for a moment. "I dunno, man. But it gets worse."

"Of course, it's always worse," Gunn muttered sarcastically.

"It's another apocalypse," Doyle continued, ignoring Gunn. He looked to Angel. "And it's in Sunnydale."

Wesley cleared his throat. "Do we have any information as to the nature of the threat?"

"Err...uh, yeah. We do," Doyle stammered, tearing his eyes away from the very dark look on Angel's face. "It's big an' ugly, an' it's really  
strong. Maybe stronger than Angel. These guys are lookin' to make some kinda super demon, and the guy looks jigsawed. If we're gonna kill this thing, we might need backup."

Doyle didn't look at him this time, but Angel knew exactly what he was implying. If this...creature had Doyle this scared, it would require more than what they had now. But he just wasn't ready to face Giles or the rest of the Scoobies yet. But the Powers seemed hell bent on making him face his past, and he had a feeling that the truth and demons would come out sooner or later.

"I...I have some contacts," Angel finally announced, his reluctance all too clear, "But I'd rather not tap them just yet. Not unless we really need the help. But I can find out what's going on. Doyle, why don't you take this. He'll recognize me and this is in your territory."

Everyone looked quizzically at their leader. What could Doyle do that he couldn't?

"His name's Willy. Willy the Snitch."

* * *

Buffy swung her stake by her side, walking easily through Restfield towards Willy's. Tired of having to beat him up just on the verge of a major crisis, the two had come to an agreement. He'd give her any important news once a week and in exchange, she promised to kill his patrons only outside of the establishment. But of course, when things were more Hell-mouthy than usual, she or Faith would stop by and give him an extra beating, something that usually brightened their day.

Willow insisted on staying in the library, when Giles came at the promised three hour mark, just in case, and Buffy didn't try too hard to stop her. She was still shaken by her little chat with the red head and there was a limit to how much joy Buffy could derive from Willow's obvious discomfort.

Smirking at the memory of their terse goodbye, Buffy felt her spider-sense go off. He wasn't too far away, but not within her line of sight just yet.

And that's when she heard it. A loud, unmistakable, "Fuckin' slayer!"

Her insides went cold. Time stood still.

"Spike?"

* * *

Yay! Look! Look! points It's an update! That's right, an actual new chapter! I must've written this thing about 5 times. Everytime I got close to finishing, it got lost. I think all of those copies are still buried somewhere on my hard drive. Well, no matter, it's here now. I am going to need to do some MAJOR revision when this is all done, everythis is way too chaotic and non-meshy right now. But I'll cross that bridge when I get to it and in the mean time, I'll try to get more chapters out. No promises, unfortunately. Life is going to be really hectic for the next few months. This is just a reminder that I'm am, in fact still in writing and haven't abandoned you guys. It seems like archives and sites are dropping like flies and I _refuse _to let B/A die. So I'll try to get in another chapter this year, but you just might have to wait until January. Sorry! I'll try! I really will! 

But I wanted to **THANK **every single person who's reviewed, the ones that have been with me since the beginning, the 14 people who have faved this story, the 29 who are watching and I want to give a special shout out to bklyangel who kept reminding me that I need to finish month after month. It's great to see that you guys haven't given up on me.

Well, enough of this. You know what to do. **REVIEW!**


	14. Knocked Out

Doyle drove nervously, feeling very vulnerable, even within the relative safety of his car. The Hellmouth. There was definitely an energy around this place and under his skin, he could feel his spikes bristle.

Before coming, he meticulously planned a route around all Sunnydale's cemeteries, Angel was the hero; he was just the messenger. Unfortunately, Sunnydale had more cemeteries than a Ibrahim demon had teeth, so Doyle heaved a huge sigh of relief when he spotted the shady bar labeled "Willy's". From extensive experience, the Irishman knew bars in this state were almost as dangerous as the areas outside (possibly even more dangerous as the danger in question would probably be drunk), but Angel was right—this was his scene.

As soon as he entered the dilapidated doorway, the smell of cheap alcohol and not-quite-human odors calmed his nerves. Sliding easily onto a dirty stool, Doyle called over the ratty, jumpy bar keep.

"Heya, pal. What can I getcha?"

Doyle glanced around, but the scattered patrons seemed to be nursing very different drinks, so he shrugged and said, "I'll just take a pinta what'er ye got on tap."

"Comin' right up," Willy slunk off to the tap. "So, what brings you to the 'Dale?" he called over his shoulder.

"Just passin' trough. Why, anytin' interestin' ever happen 'ere?'

Willy let out a nervous little laugh and placed the mug in front of Doyle. "You could say that. But if you're lookin' for trouble, I gotta warn ya…I feel it is my duty to look out for a good guy like yourself, y'know, that it might be wise to go elsewhere."

Doyle took a gulp of his drink and was pleased to find that it tasted much better than the bar looked.

"Why's that?"

"Hey, man, haven't you heard of the Slayer? She runs these parts. Ain't a girl to laugh at, even if she is so small." Willy told him in a conspiratory voice.

Doyle nodded seriously, but secretly thought that the brunette was pretty tall. Especially compared to the scrap of a human in front of him.

"The Slayer? Any other players? I heard talk of some government group messin' around wid demons. Know anytin?"

Willy's eyes widened. "T-the government? Naw, naw, I'm completely legit! I-I-I treat you humans right! You feel safe in the establishment, right? There ain't been a problem where the feds need to get involved," Willy rambled nervously, backing away.

"What?" Doyle took a moment to comprehend the source of Willy's fear. "No, I ain't no cop. I don' look much like one, do I? I'm passin' meself."

Willy looked relieved. "Oh. S-sorry 'bout that." He gave a nervous laugh. "Can't be too careful, y'know?"

Doyle nodded, downing the last of his drink. Willy reached over and filled it back up. "So, what was that about the government?"

Doyle took a long swig before responding. "I dunno much. Just heard some chatter 'bout demons getting' snatched by da governmen'. If it was me, I'd be more afraid of getting' experimented on dan da Slayer. Them scientists ain't human. Der a whole 'noder breed."

Willy nodded vigorously. "Yeah, yeah. I know watcha mean."

Doyle felt slightly buzzed right then and said, "Any way ta tell da Slayer?"

Willy fidgeted. "Ya know, I-I've taken a likin' to ya. And it wouldn't make a lotta sense to let you go to the Slayer. She'd be able to tell you were a demon faster than you can yell for help. I-I could pass it along for you…if you want. "

Doyle watched the bartender's movements and figured he would be getting a nice cut for that hit of information. Well, as long as it got into the right heads, it didn't matter to him. Downing nearly half the remaining mug in one go, Doyle stood up and said, "Well, don't tink I'll be stickin' 'round, even wid yer Slayer. See ya anoder time."

"Yeah, thank for your patronage. I really appreciate it."

Doyle slapped down some bills and walked out. So, that didn't help the Fang Gang so much, but at least the Slayer would hear about it.

"Back to the drawing board."

* * *

Buffy felt her blood run cold. "Spike?" It seemed like she moved by thought alone. Her hands and feet were weightless, she could feel her feet touching the ground, but she was being propelled towards that black hole which marked the location of Angel's murderer. Nothing could stop her now.

Buffy turned the cover of the crypt and a flash of peroxide blonde was all it took to set her body on fire. Her eyes narrowed to slits. "Spike."

* * *

Faith sat on the edge of Spike's bed, dressed now, but feeling as crappy as when he left. She sighed and got up, rubbing her arm. This whole situation was a mess. There was just no way she could balance Spike and Buffy and she needed them both. There was just no way this could end well.

"Bloody HELL!"

Faith's head shot up as panic took over. "Oh, God." Not only could she sense the vampiric force that was Spike, but the glowing power of Buffy was hard on top him.

"Oh, God."

Faith sprinted off as fast as she could.

* * *

Riley moved stiffly, glad his team was carrying the hostile. He needed a shower. A long, hot, shower.

"Man, Ri! That was seriously impressive! You, my friend, are a _machine!_" Graham slapped him on the shoulder and Riley tried not to wince.

Graham went on, leaving the dirty work to those not second-in-command. "A werewolf, man! A fucking _werewolf_. That's so intense."

Riley didn't comment, but unconsciously adjusted his stride to more of a swagger. He was feeling pretty good about himself, sore muscles or no.

He grinned and turned to Graham on his right, when movement in the cemetery on his left caught his attention.

He couldn't make it out, but whatever it was, it was fast. Really fast.

Feeling the weariness in his bones, Riley barked orders for his team to bring the hostile back to HQ for securing, and he would take Graham to investigate this new incident.

"Alright, move out!"

Riley and Graham jogged in the direction of the creature, and in his head, Riley was thanking God that backup was only a few minutes away, if he needed it.

As they got closer, they perceived the tell tale sounds of a fight and the pair pulled out their weapons.

Riley crept closer, signaling Graham to stay right behind and saw three figures in a chaotic battle. Riley's breath caught in his throat when he recognized one of them.

"Buffy…"

* * *

"BUFFY, NO!" Faith screamed, racing past the tombstones to get to her lover.

Spike had been beaten pretty efficiently. Already his chest wound had split open, revealing a nasty, bloody mess, and his right eye was starting to swell itself shut.

Faith stumbled and nearly fell, but sprinted faster than ever when Buffy whipped out Mr. Pointy.

"Sorry, Faith. This one is mine," Buffy said coldly, moving in for the kill.

"**NO!**" Faith lunged in desperation for the stake, knocking it out of Buffy's hand and falling to the ground.

Astonished, Buffy looked away from Spike's quivering form. "Faith, this is _Spike_, the son of a bitch that killed Angel. He's mine."

Spike started. "What?"

At the sound of his voice, Buffy's head snapped back to the vampire and the murderous glint in her eyes returned full force. She pulled out another stake and advanced.

Spike tried to move back, trying to ignore pain that burned his entire body. "No, Slayer, Buffy, wait! I didn't—"

Faith jumped up and struck her sister slayer's hand again. This time Buffy held fast and she attacked. "What's going _on_, Faith?!"

Faith blocked for her life, afraid in a way she'd never been afraid during sparring sessions.

"Buffy, _listen_ to me. You can't kill Spike!"

"Oh, I really think I can."

Faith finally threw a punch, catching Buffy by surprise on the jaw. "I won't let you. He's not dangerous anymore!"

Buffy blocked and tried to drive Faith back. "Like hell he's not!" She let loose a roundhouse kick that knocked Faith into a crypt wall. "He killed Angel!"

Faith coughed, trying to recover her breath. "I know, but you _can't_ kill him."

"Why NOT?!"

"Because," Faith panted in between punches, "He's MY Angel."

Buffy stopped moving so abruptly that Faith wasn't able to stop her kick and slammed her foot full force into Buffy's stomach.

Buffy lay gasping on the grass and her head rang in a funny way .

Faith rushed to Spike's side. He coughed in pain, but opened his mouth to ask about this killing Angel business when a loud voice caused them all to focus on someone else.

"BUFFY!"

Riley Finn ran forward in full commando gear, another unidentified solider behind him.

"Buffy, are you alright?"

Buffy's eyes were wide. "Riley?"

Behind his helmet, Riley smiled. "Yeah, Buffy, it's me. Don't worry about anything. I'll handle this. You're safe now."

Riley glanced up from the blonde to look at her attackers. He was surprised to see the girl he'd saved only last night. So much for gratitude, he thought, completely forgetting his failure the night before. It never occurred to him that she might have had something to do with the demon's death until he recognized the hostile next to her.

"Agent Miller," he started to warn Graham, but for all his jokes, Graham wasn't second in command for nothing. And he wasn't blinded by a pretty girl like his superior, either.

"I see him," Graham kept his weapon trained on the hostile.

"Careful, not only did he manage to escape, but somehow he disabled the chip," Riley cautioned.

Noting Spike's numerous injuries, Graham wondered if Buffy should be the one to worry about, but said nothing. Turning his attention to the dark-haired girl, Riley asked, "What are you?"

Faith glared, aware of Graham's gun. "What do you mean, what am I? I'm human."

Riley kept his gun trained on her. "Humans aren't so friendly with hostiles. What are you? A demon of some kind?"

Faith couldn't believe this guy's ignorance. Catching Buffy's eye, Faith saw the plan was confirmed and she said, "What are _you?_ I'm not the one wearing a mask. You can _see_ I'm human, but--"

"Yes, you're very obvious," Graham leered.

Riley glared at Graham's unprofessionalism, but while Graham's attention was on Faith's "humanity", Buffy stood up behind Riley, grabbed his tazer from its holster, and knocked him out.

"Wh—Ril—" Graham swung his gun around to Buffy, but quick as a flash, Faith leapt up and punched him in the head. Despite his helmet, Graham still dropped like a rock.

Buffy stood over Spike, fists clenched in restraint. This was it. This was the moment she had been working for these last long years. The death of Spike, and revenge of Angel. Spike, who destroyed everything good and dear to her, was lying completely helpless at her feet; waiting, _asking _to be staked. And now, on the very cusp of what should be the most satisfactory moment of her life—Faith was standing there telling her she couldn't take it. Breathing hard and very deliberately in through her nose and out through her mouth, Buffy said, "Faith, wanna tell me what the hell is going on? Why can't I kill this murdering bag of ashes?"

"Buffy, I know I—"

"Now hold on!" Spike interrupted. The Slayers turned to him, one with a mask of anger, the other with a look of desperation.

"First, Faith's right, the nancy boys over there put a bloody chip in my head and I can't hurt humans without feeling like a soddin' screwdriver is bein' shoved through my skull."

"My heart bleeds," Buffy responded impatiently.

Spike looked at Faith. "And about Angel," he turned his full attention to Buffy, "I didn't kill the poof. I have no idea what happened—I didn't even know he was dead!"

Buffy lurched violently, but Faith's arm held her back. "What kind of lies are you spinning, Spike?" she spat, angrily.

Spike held up his hands in surrender. "I swear on my black heart I had nothing to do with Angel after I last saw you, ducks."

"Not according to one of your minions," Buffy replied, resolved to get to the bottom of this. "What did you tell Dalton?"

Spike laughed deep in his throat. "Dalton? That stupid git? I sent him after that bloody arm and never heard from him again." Spike paused. "Suppose that's your doin', then?" Seeing Buffy's non-responsive face, Spike sighed and said in earnest, "Look, if I was planning on _killing_ Angel, I wouldn't have sent the brainiac. Besides, Dru wanted to destroy the world, and since Angel _was in the world_, there wouldn't be much point in trying to kill him."

Buffy struggled with this information, years of hate pumping through her system. "You didn't kill Angel?"

Spike was completely serious in his reply. "No."

"So he could still be…" Buffy's hope crashed as quickly as it rose. No. Dalton still had the arm and Angel still hadn't returned. If Angel was alive, he would have come back to her. She wouldn't have felt him die.

Buffy held her claddagh tight, feeling the solid weight on her left hand.

"So it was Dalton. I've already killed him." Buffy said, monotone.

Spike hesitated. "Dalton didn't have the brains enough to kill Angel, and he was no match for him physically. Likely he got someone else to do his dirty work for him."

Buffy felt drained, knowing now that all these years, all that hate, had been for nothing. It all came to nothing. Nothing but ashes and disappointments.

Faith and Spike held their breath watching the thoughts flicker beneath a troubled face.

"So you two are…together." It was more of a statement than a question.

"Yes." Faith said. She felt guilty, but there was nothing she could do about it now.

Buffy nodded and was silent. Then her fist shot out and knocked Spike unconscious.

Faith raised her fist, but Buffy was quite calm and didn't look as though she planned on doing it again.

"We had a long score to settle. But he's…well if you…I'm going to take this secret as a measure of your feelings and not a betrayal to me."

Faith's chest hurt. "B, I…"

"You only found out about Angel tonight, didn't you?" Buffy closed her eyes. "Tonight. God, that's…" she shook her head. Taking a deep breath, she asked, "How long?"

Buffy watched Faith's eyes glaze over and watched for the tell-tale twitch of her smile. "A little over a week."

Buffy remembered the way Angel made her feel those first few unsure days. When she babbled so happily to Willow. Those days were simple. Now there were obstacles. Buffy looked over at the two commandos, still lying unconscious on the ground.

"What are we going to do about them?"

Faith shrugged. "They can ID us now. I don't know if it's safe to let them go."

Buffy eyed them distastefully. "So we have to hold them until we can be sure they're good guys?"

"I'm pretty sure they're good guys. We just have to keep them until we can convince them that so are we," Faith laughed.

"That might be a hard with the 'hostile' over here."

Faith growled. "Looks like we've filled in the blanks. The guys who put the chip in Spike's head are government scientists. Super secret, massive budget, answers-to-no-one kind of organization. They take demons and vampires to experiment on them. These boys must be part of a larger team in that organization. Our mysterious masked men."

Buffy chewed her lip. "So we're going to hold them until we can convince them we're of the good. Um…where are we going to put them?"

The two slayers looked at each other, then the unconscious commanders, then the unconscious Spike.

"Aw, crap."

* * *

Walsh waited with careful patience as Riley's team returned with a captive werewolf.

"Where is Agent Finn?" She demanded when he didn't immediately step forward to give a report.

Agent Johnston, next in line, stepped forward and relayed the night's events.

Walsh was very pleased with Riley's ability to keep up with a werewolf, but nothing showed on her face. "Very good work. Take the specimen to Lab 1. It will be dawn in a few hours and we must be prepared."

Her agents rushed to do her bidding and Walsh made her way to the lab, calling to Agent Johnston.

"Yes, ma'am?" He jogged to keep up with her brisk pace.

"Inform me the second Agent Finn returns," she ordered.

Agent Johnston nodded. "Of course."

Walsh watched as the werewolf was laid on a cold steel examination table in the middle of the room. While he was still unconscious, her assistants drew blood and hooked the creature up to the necessary monitors. Walsh took in all the data with hungry eyes, racing against the sun that would bring an end to the wolf, but give rise to a new set of experiments.

Hours later, when the sun finally rose, Walsh eagerly waited for a transformation that would prove her captive was a werewolf. As the first rays of the sun touched Sunnydale, Walsh's eyes widened.

"Well," she mused. "This is interesting."

* * *

**A/N: **I can't believe it's been over a year since I last updated. I'm so, so sorry guys. I can't thank you enough, you guys who stuck with me all this time. And you new ones who reviewed, even with those seriously depressing dates stamped up top--thanks for all your support. I LOOOOVE reviews and they always came when I was having a really crappy day. So thanks. **Thank you so much.**

My life has been Buffy CRAZY of late. There's the Bronzer's Reunion with Darling Violetta and Four Star Mary, and of course, the Buffy Reunion which I've DESPERATELY been trying to get tickets for. It's unbelievable. A freaking dream come true. I almost can't believe it's actually happening because it really is straight out of a dream. So NOT being able to go would be the most ingenious form of torture imaginable on this planet. Angelus would be incapacitated from the pleasure he would derive from it. If any of you have a ticket--just one!--I swear, you'll be my best friend for life. (And obviously I'd pay for it. A lot, but it's not like I have a whole lot of money to begin with. Hello? College kid.)

Anyway, it caused me to re-read my story and where previously I saw only a tangled mess of my own doing, now I actually perceived the faintest glimmers of my original story. I can't say I'm terribly happy with it; I still hate all my typos in the previous chapters and it isn't tight enough for me, but I'll worry about re-working the storylines when it's done, 'kay? Sounds fair to me.

Alright. End of long Author Note. I'll finish the story, I'll just take some time getting there. I'm not even sure how far along we are in the overall story yet. It could end in 10 chapters, it could end in 2. Or 20. We'll see. No promises. Of course, you still have to **REVIEW!!**


	15. Crisis

"Willow?"

The redhead didn't respond.

"Willow?"

Willow's eyes flew open in surprise, darting around the room as she tried to gain her bearings. "Steal their lily pads!" she mumbled sleepily. Her jerky movements stilled when there was no apparent source for the sound that woke her. Books. There were so many books. She fell asleep in the library! Her eyes shot to the cage in the corner and relief flooded her body.

"Willow!"

"Oz! You, you're okay!" She looked at him through the holes of the cage. "Oh, uh…are you? Okay, I mean?"

Oz nodded thoughtfully. "I think so. I feel kind of…strange, though."

Assured of his well being, Willow looked around. "Where is everyone?"

Oz shrugged. "Faith was here when I woke up. But she seemed pretty impatient to leave."

Willow fought back an instinctive rush of jealousy.

"Could you, um…" Oz pointed to the cage door.

Willow's eyes went wide. "Oh! O-of course! The cage!" She looked around for the key, then remembered it was in Giles' office. She ran in and saw the keys sitting in the middle of his disheveled desk. She grabbed them from the table when the word "spell" caught her eye. Willow hesitated. She'd been a practicing witch for a while now, but her resources weren't nearly as extensive as a Watcher's. If anyone had a good spell, it would be Giles.

Pausing only a moment more, she grabbed the folder and opened it.

"Resurrection Spell…" she whispered.

Oz sat patiently in the cage, glad Willow wasn't too mad at him. He was so grateful he never went for those airheads who stopped talking to their boyfriends over every little thing. Not that this was so _little_, but Willow would never do something like that.

Oz tapped his foot on the ground while he waited.

Willow eagerly flipped through the pages of Ms. Calendar's neat script, following the spell from beginning to end, fascinated with the innovation and creativity wrought throughout. This was _genius_. Nearing the end, Willow realized it was also very advanced. Two witches with a mastery of channeling, familiar with vampires, an orb of Thesula, an immortal demon, a near perfect memory of the intended vampire to be resurrected…Willow gasped as all the pieces fell into place. Ms. Calendar was going to resurrect Angel!

She had to tell Buffy! Ms. Calendar needed two witches…maybe she could help somehow…

Willow grabbed the papers and rushed out of the library as fast as she could, muttering a locating spell as she did so.

"Uh…Willow?" Oz asked from inside the cage. His girlfriend had already rushed out the door. "Willow?"

* * *

Buffy watched the captives with a frown. All this trouble was caused by the psych TA? And his frat buddy friend. She just couldn't believe it. And she had no idea where to go from here.

There was a bang as Faith shut the large, metal door of the abandoned warehouse. Giles cringed as the metal walls rattled from the aftershocks.

"Faith, do try to be more discrete. We _are_ harboring two government soldiers."

"Sorry, Giles," Faith said, not sounding sorry at all. She made her way to Spike who was still lying unconscious on a broken mattress in the corner.

Giles grumbled to himself, then wiped his glasses. "How is Oz? Awake now, I take it?"

Faith shrugged. "He's alright."

Giles waited to hear the rest, when he realized that she'd told him the rest.

"Was he groggy? Disoriented? How quickly did he change back? Did he appear to be in pain?" Giles got more excited the more questions he asked.

Faith scowled. "I dunno. He knew who I was, and he took a second before remembering what happened the night before." She shrugged again. "He seemed pretty five by five to me."

Giles was irritated by Faith's lack of detail during such a prime opportunity. He opened his mouth to scold her apathy, but Faith cut him off.

"If you're so interested, why didn't _you_ go?" she sniffed, upset that she had to go chuck up on wolfy when her lover lay vulnerable in a room with a slayer, a watcher, and the goons who shoved a chip in his skull.

Giles sighed. "We already discussed this, Faith. Buffy needed to stay to subdue the soldiers and I had to stay to explain what was going on."

"I would have stayed to watch the losers," Faith muttered.

Buffy jumped into the conversation. "But Riley _trusts_ me," Buffy drawled in a sing-song voice, clearly annoyed with the fact.

Faith rolled her eyes. "Yeah, and look how well that went for him."

Buffy laughed, but her retort was cut off by Spike's groan. "Bloody hell…"

Faith grabbed his hand. "Hey, you alright?"

"Ugh…" Spike grabbed his head, wincing as he did so. "Oh, Christ, Slayer. Feel like a bleedin' truck ran over my head."

Buffy tried hard not to smirk, but failed. "Sorry Spikey. I owed you one. "

Spike just grabbed his head and growled.

Giles cleared his throat. "So. Spike."

Spike responded without opening his eyes. "So. Watcher."

"I understand you have…relations with Faith," Giles started.

Faith's eyes widened and Buffy laughed out loud before turning it into an unconvincing cough. Spike didn't seem terribly concerned. "Yeah. What of it?"

His flippant attitude clearly annoyed the watcher. "What exactly are your intentions? I understand you have some sort of…device which renders you incapable of harming humans, but you understand my apprehension in regard to a known Slayer-killer pursuing my slayer."

"Giles, stop it!" Faith cried, embarrassed that Giles was treating her like a teenage girl on her first date. She was also annoyed that he was talking about her as if she wasn't there.

"Be quiet, Faith. I think I have the right to ascertain the truth about a relationship you chose to hide from me," Giles snapped.

"Look, Watcher—"

"You don't have to know about everything I do!" Faith yelled, hurt at his blatant rebuke. A few years ago she would have been able to just brush it off, but Giles so rarely disapproved of her behavior that it was impossible to ignore when he did it so bluntly.

Giles scowled. "I am your _Watcher_, Faith. Especially when it comes to situations like this—when you are closely involved with a demon—I need to know how to protect you!"

Buffy sensed a full-on blow out and tried to run interference. "Faith, I'm sure—"

"_Protect_ me?! You don't _trust_ me, you mean. Faith's the reckless one who can't be trusted, but _Buffy_ can do whatever she wants with whatever vamp she wants!"

The moment the words left her mouth, Faith wished she could take them back. "B, I…"

Buffy was livid, but Giles cut off her reply. "Angel had a soul. He was trustworthy and proved to be so on several occasions. Angel also loved Buffy. I have no reason to believe anything of the sort with Spike, and in fact, every reason to believe the contrary. The fact that Buffy allowed him to live, to be brought here speaks to the legitimacy of his chip, but my first priority is your safety and that is incredibly difficult to secure if you are seeing a dangerous, soulless demon behind my back!"

Faith held her face in a carefully blank mask, holding back tears. Spike sense her distress and gripped her hand a little tighter.

"Listen, I know you 'n the Slayer don't trust me. But you know a soulless demon can care about someone other than himself. Did before, 'n I do now. I'm not looking to hurt her, an' I'll rip anyone who tries limb from limb," Spike said with passion.

Giles didn't seem wholly pleased with Spike's response, but he did seem temporarily placated. Still, when he next addressed the vampire, his eyes were cold. "You get one chance, Spike."

Spike nodded. "I got it. Ripper."

Satisfied that he was understood, Giles turned to Buffy. "What do we know about Riley and the organization so far?"

Buffy nodded to Spike. "Ask him."

* * *

"Nothin! Da Willy guy knew nottin' bout a demon Frankenstein. I slipped him a bit 'o information ta reach da Slayer, but couldn't get anytin' useful outta it," Doyle reported.

Angel frowned, not liking his options. Giles and the Slayer now knew about the threat, but it didn't bode well that they didn't know about it in the first place. It seemed like he'd have to go to Sunnydale no matter what.

"Alright. Thanks, Doyle. We'll head to Sunnydale day after tomorrow. I'll call the gang and tell them to start preparing. We need to be ready for a head fight with a trained army."

"An' how are we supposed ta do tha?"

Angel's face was blank. "I'll ask some friends to help."

Doyle knew better than to say anything.

"Bye, Doyle. Get some sleep."

He hung up.

With a heavy heart, Angel started preparing for the trip.

* * *

Doyle stumbled into his apartment, tired and feeling some unfortunate after effects of Willy's beer.

"DOYLE!"

He cringed as Cordelia's shriek pierced his ears.

"Delia…" he groaned.

"Where the hell _were_ you, you insensitive jerk? You've been gone for two days and didn't call, didn't leave a note…" Cordelia fought the urge to hit him.

Doyle was pleasantly surprised. "Sorry, "Delia. I must have forgotten." He grinned. "I didn't know you cared."

Cordelia huffed, more angry than worried now that it was apparent he was unhurt. He looked like a garbage truck threw up on him, but he was alright.

"I don't. I just don't want to find a new roommate if you mysteriously disappear. You may have the fashion sense of a brain-damaged dog, but you're not a total goon."

Doyle signed dramatically, kicking the door closed. "My sweet Delia, the princess with a gilded tongue."

"Hmph." Cordelia would never admit Doyle's absurd flattery was, actually, flattering. "You never answered my question. Where'd you go for two days where you couldn't call?"

Remembering that Cordelia was from Sunnydale, Doyle carefully avoided mentioning it. "I just had some work ta do!" Doyle avoided eye contact as well, shuffling to the kitchen. He rummaged through the cupboard for aspirin. With a triumphant look, he pulled out a half empty bottle.

Cordelia knew a lie when she heard one and they were usually better told than Doyle's. She also knew she could break him with almost no effort. "What kind of work would take you away for two days?" she demanded.

Doyle popped an aspirin in his mouth. "Jus' a special assignment." He grinned mischievously. "You know those 'ooker types, so 'ard to get 'em to talk."

He turned, laughing, and ran straight into Cordelia's slap. The blow caught him hard on the side of his face instead of the back of his head, like Cordelia intended, and Doyle felt his whole head spin from the blow. The aspirin bottle dropped from his hands.

Gasping with dismay, Cordelia grabbed him by the shoulders to keep him from falling. "Doyle! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean…"

Doyle waved a woozy hand, his eyes struggling to focus on Cordelia's worried face. It didn't escape him that this was the closest they'd ever been since she moved into his apartment. "Don't worry 'bout it, Princess. I'll…I'll be…b…e…"

He fell into Cordelia's straining arms, unconscious.

* * *

Riley twitched as he awoke, groaning as the stiff pain in his arm triggered a network of spasms in his tired body.

"Look who decided to wake up."

Riley didn't open his eyes, but fear pricked the back of his neck when he recognized the British drawl.

"'aven't got all day, now. Come on. Open your eyes."

Buffy's voice answered. "Spike, you know getting them to believe we're the good guys is going to be really difficult if you act like one of the bad guys."

"Well next time I'll say pretty please."

"Riley?"

Riley nearly jerked back, the voice came from no more than a foot away.

Slowly, Riley blinked open his eyes, thankful the windows of the dingy room were blacked out. "B-Buffy?"

The events of last night trickled back to his fuzzy memory. "Buffy!" he exclaimed, trying to move away from her, but finding himself tied to a chair. "W-what do you want?"

Buffy signed. "Look, Riley, I know how this must look, but, really, we don't want to hurt you—we're on the same side."

Jerking at his bonds, Riley muttered. "Funny way you have of showing it."

"We're terribly sorry about the measures we've taken to restrain you, Mr. Finn, but we had no idea how you'd react upon awakening and we wanted to ensure we had time to explain the situation." The clipped British accent belonged to a middle aged man in a tweed coat. Even knowing appearances weren't everything, Riley had difficulty believing he and—Graham!

Riley looked around, and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw his friend sagging against ropes in his own chair.

Giles noticed the direction of Riley's gaze and said, "Your friend, Graham will be fine. Just a bump on the head."

Riley looked up. "So what did you want to tell me?"

Faith stepped forward. "Well, first we were kinda hoping you could tell us exactly what it is your organization does."

His soldier training took over and he resolved to say nothing. Seeing the set of his jaw, Buffy figured a little sharing might be in order.

"You guys have something to do with demons and vampires, right? You've captured a few and experimented on some of them?"

Knowing Spike was right behind Faith, Riley saw no point in lying. "Yes."

Buffy nodded. "Ever hear them mention someone called the Slayer?"

Riley couldn't stop his interest from appearing on his face. "It might have come up."

Spike laughed wickedly in the background. "The ninny can't even _lie_ proper. I don't even have to see his face to know he'd give his left nut to find out who the Slayer is."

Buffy grit her teeth. We should have gagged him, she thought angrily.

"He's supposed to be a myth…" Riley muttered.

Spike very poorly concealed a laugh. Even Buffy had trouble taking the commando seriously.

"Well, _she_ isn't a myth. Faith's the Slayer." Buffy told him. They'd decided earlier not to tell him everything. "So she kills vampires, demons, and the forces of darkness, blah, blah, blah."

Riley looked a the brunette in disbelief. "She's the Slayer?"

Faith bristled. "You gotta problem with that, farmer Joe?"

Riley still looked skeptical. "If she's supposed to kill vampires, why is she protecting that one?"

Anticipating a testy retort, Giles said, "Spike is a special case. We've dealt with him before and he knows better than to cross us again. Vampires, despite their evil nature, can be reasoned with."

"The Slayer's got a really mean bite," Spike winked at Faith. "There are certain…advantages to being on her side."

Giles shot him a warning look, but Riley seemed oblivious. "So what are you?" Riley asked Buffy. "Are you a Slayer, too?"

Buffy spoke as if he were a small child. "There's only one Slayer in all the world."

"Oh. Right," Riley said sheepishly.

"She's my adopted sister, kind of," Buffy added. "She saved me after an encounter with a vampire and I sort of help her out. We train together and sometimes we'll patrol."

"So, you slay vampires, too?"  
Buffy shrugged. "Sometimes. So now it's your turn. What's your deal?"

Riley was really uncomfortable revealing top secret government details to these near-complete strangers and a hostile who was once in their captivity, but he couldn't see another way out. "We're called the Initiative. We're a government organization under the highest level of secrecy imaginable. We're gathering information about vampires and demons through observations and experimentation."

"What kind of experimentation?" Giles asked with interest.

Riley hesitated. "I'm not too sure. My superior is in charge of all laboratory-related activities. My team and I are just supposed to follow her orders and provide her with suitable specimen."

Faith and Buffy shared a look. They didn't need superpowers to figure out Riley was a horrible liar.

"What was the last specimen you brought in?" Buffy asked.

Riley's chest swelled with pride. "It-I am, uh, not at liberty to share that information with civilians."

Faith was pissed. "Not at liberty to say?! I just told you about my sacred duty which has been kept from 'civilians' for _thousands_ of years. I don't know how long your little torture tests have been going on, since you won't tell us, but I'm damn sure it's shorter lived than that!"

Riley's face was stony, and Buffy knew intimidation wasn't going to work.

She crouched down to Riley's level and softly said, "Riley, we're taking a lot on faith here. I know you have your orders and everything, but try to understand our position. We've been fighting these guys a lot longer than you have and we don't have much to go on. What we know so far is you kidnapped one of our allies and threatened the Slayer. " Buffy looked down. "I've vouched for you to Faith and Giles, but you have to help me out," she pleaded, looking at him with big, mossy green eyes.

Spike successfully held back a laugh, but was secretly impressed with her performance. Judging by Faith's facial expression, so was she.

"We _are_ good," Riley insisted. "The research Walsh conducts is unbelievable. We're finding the limits of vampire endurance, maybe discover the source of their increased capabilities, we're finding new unrelated limits to their power, too." He clearly believed in what he was doing and thought the world of his superior.

Buffy shifted from foot to foot and caught Faith's eye. "Walsh? Professor Walsh is your superior?"

Riley fidgeted. He hadn't actually meant to let that slip. 'Yes. I know she can be kind of harsh, but she's brilliant. You should see some of her work."

Buffy was worried and she could tell Giles was as well. "Riley, what did you last bring in?"

Riley grinned. Faith might be some hotshot _Slayer_, but _he_ had tracked and neutralized a werewolf. So with a touch of arrogance, he said. "A werewolf. Tracked it down last night."

Every mouth in the room fell open. "Faith, you _did_ say that Oz was—"

Someone banged on the door, shaking the whole warehouse. Willow's voice came from right outside. "Buffy! Buffy! I need to talk to you!"

Buffy's eyes went wide.

* * *

While the humans were shocked into stillness, Spike, who knew nothing about werewolves or Oz, recognized Willow's voice and took advantage of a prime opportunity to scare a human witless without having to physically hurt them. And, what with Faith and the tentative truce with Giles and the other Slayer, he could do it with some level of personal safety.

Checking to make sure his face was particularly evil, Spike opened the door, eyes glinting almost as brightly as his bared fangs. "Welcome, pet."

Terror twisted Willow's face and her shrill scream pierced the air.

"Willow! Willow!"

Buffy's shouts seemed very faint and far away. Willow stumbled back, wondering somewhere in her panicked mind where her spell went so badly wrong.

She screamed again when strong arms wrapped around her, preventing her escape. "NO! No, please, please, let me go…"

Buffy tightened her grip and tried to calm her friend down. "Willow! It's me. It's Buffy. Don't worry about Spike. I'm taking care of it. Okay? Calm down."

Gradually Willow relaxed and Buffy let go. "Y-y-you took care of it?" Willow asked, turning around. She couldn't help jumping when she saw Spike's leather-clad form in the shadows of the warehouse. He'd reverted to his human face and was being chastised by Giles. Spike didn't look terribly apologetic.

"W-what's goin' on? Why is _Spike_ here?" Willow hugged herself and couldn't look away from Spike.

"Well, he's…Spike's got…" Buffy struggled for a way to explain the situation. "It's a long story."

Faith stuck her head out and grinned. "He's my hot vampire lover."

"Faith!" Giles exclaimed.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Maybe not that long." She focused on Willow who couldn't remember how to blink. Or breathe. "Anyway, he's helping us right now. We've sort of got hellmouthy problems to deal with."

Suddenly remembering the encounter that sent her running into the library what seemed like weeks ago (was it really just yesterday?) Willow blurted, "You've got even more than that! Buffy, I forgot to tell you, Riley Finn, our TA from psych is—"

Buffy cut her off. "—right in the warehouse." She sighed at the bewildered look on Willow's face. "Come on."

Slowly the whole party filed back into the warehouse where Riley and Graham were still tied to their chairs.

Riley seemed resigned to his position and showed only the faintest surprise when he recognized Willow among his captors.

"Willow," Riley sighed.

"Riley!" Willow was not so apathetic. "What's Riley doing tied up in a chair? A-and Graham? Buffy, they're part of a military organization—"

"—called the Initiative. We know." Faith said. "Why is it we hear nothing about you boys for weeks and _now_ everyone wants to play show and tell?"

"Is…is, um, Oz…is he…alright?" Giles asked anxiously.

Willow nodded. "Yeah I let him out…" Willow gasped and covered her mouth. "Ack! I forgot! I left Oz in the cage! I completely forgot!"

Faith cracked first. A tiny noise escaped her tightly pressed lips and trigged Spike's roaring laughter.

"AHAHAHAHA! You left the man in a cage? Oh that rich, luv. And a cage, too…wouldn't've picked you one for that brand of fun."

Faith smacked his arm, but continued to chuckle.

Willow was bright red, but remembered the spell. "Buffy," she said, trying to ignore Spike and Faith who were still laughing at her expense. "I found a spell. Ms Calendar…she…"

Buffy turned pale, knowing what spell Willow was talking about. She tried to push it to the back of her mind, but now it returned to the front of the line with a vengeance.

"She's found—created—a spell to restore a vampire. It-it's genius…and…and…"

Buffy smiled painfully. "I know, will. I've already seen it."

Relief flooded Willow's features. "Oh. Good." She hesitated. "I, uh…I…I want to help. I know I messed up in the past and I—I want to make it up to you. For the last few years I've been kind of experimenting with magic and I think I'm pretty good. I can help you."

Buffy was torn between her dislike of the girl and the desire to get Angel back. She looked at Giles who smiled gently. He wanted her to do the right thing, Angel aside, and he trusted she knew just what that was.

"What could you do?"

A huge smile blossomed on Willow's face.

* * *

Riley had no idea _what_ was going on. But it seemed pretty clear everyone had forgotten about him.

He tried to take advantage of his position and find out their future plans, but it was near impossible. Man, he wished Graham would wake up. How hard could a girl like Faith hit, anyway? He'd been _tazered_ for Pete's sake! You didn't see him complaining.

Looking up at the semi circle his captors had formed, Riley frowned. What the hell were they talking about? As far as he could tell, Faith was the Slayer, the Hostile was their ally, Willow was a witch into some kinky shit and Buffy was in charge of everything. Even this Giles guy, whose role he hadn't deciphered yet, deferred to her on most matters.

In spite of his dangerous situation, Riley couldn't help but be impressed.

When the boring details of a spell or multiple spells only multiplied with no sign of stopping , Riley cleared his throat. "Listen, I hate to interrupt…whatever this is, but Graham may be in need of medical attention, so if you could please untie me?" he asked in his politest voice.

Buffy skeptical, but Faith looked like she wanted to flat out refuse. Riley hastily turned to Buffy.

"You're not going to send a platoon of your camouflaged beer buddies after us?"

Riley looked from Willow to Giles to Faith to Spike. "Can I at least bring back the hostile?"

"_No_." Faith, Buffy and Spike all answered with varying degrees of intensity.

Riley looked down for a moment thinking. "What should I tell Walsh? She'll never believe he's good and I'm not so sure she'll accept a Slayer either. She'll think power like that needs more training and discipline. Otherwise it might be a potential threat."

"I assure you both Faith an-and Spike get all the training they can handle. Though, I am sure they are wanting in discipline," Giles remarked. He nearly said, "Faith and Buffy", but caught himself in time.

Riley nodded, but knew that wasn't going to satisfy Walsh. And he still didn't know how much to tell her.

Buffy went behind the chairs and started untying Riley's bonds. "Look. We fight the same baddies you do. And we do it faster, more efficiently, and all around better than you do." Sensing a bit of ego bruising, Buffy quickly added, "In the same time it takes you to capture one of your "hostiles", we've killed five. Maybe ten. I've taken down twenty, possibly thirty vamps a night."

Riley felt the ropes fall to the floor and he brought his arms forward to rub his sore wrists. He focused on the task, trying not to show his absolute shock. Thirty hostiles in a single night?!

Buffy went over to Graham, quickly untying his knots.

"I think we can help each other out. We've got the experience and you've got the resources. You're in your ivory towers while we're knee deep in the evil we fight. We could use the help and you want the insight."

Buffy stood in front of Riley now. Her friends gathered protectively behind her. "You know your superior better than I do, tell her what you think she can take. And if she decides to work with us, I'll see you in class."

It was clear that the conversation was over and Riley took the hint. He walked as well as he was able, taking Graham's unconscious form and with a manly grunt of pain, slung his friend over his shoulder. He looked around to say good-bye, but everyone had disappeared. Riley gaped. Where did they--? He turned his back for only a minute and it was definitely too close to sunrise, so the Hostile, at least, would have had some problems leaving, but…

Riley spun around again, almost dropping Graham, but there wasn't a soul in the dark warehouse.

"Damn. They _are_ good," he whispered, slowly carrying Graham outside.

A few minutes later, when Riley was well on his way back to the complex, the air in the corner of the warehouse shimmered like a mirage and then disappeared, revealing a very jolly group of people.

"Oh, God, Willow, that was genius!" Buffy laughed, holding her sides.

"Y-yes. Much as I discourage the use of magic for personal whims; that was…amusing. Thank you, Willow," Giles chuckled.

"'We _are_ good'," Faith mimicked, laughing so hard she had to hang onto Spike for support.

Spike for his part, was howling, practically crying he was laughing so hard. It was actually hurting something fierce, but every time he recalled the awed look on Captain Cardboard's face he doubled over. "He's totally besotted with the Slayer, too, pet. Did you see his _face_? Bravo, ducks. You're quite the witch."

They all gasped for breath, wiping tears from their eyes.

"Oh, I needed that," Spike laughed.

Slowly, they calmed down. Giles recovered first. "Alright. Hopefully there will be some progress with this Initiative problem. Faith, this may mean you will have to be civil," he warned, looking at her over his glasses. Faith pouted, but couldn't argue. Giles turned to Buffy. "Remember, Riley doesn't know you're the Slayer. While this may be advantageous, it does mean you have to be even more careful than Faith."

Buffy shrugged. "He'll trust me more if he thinks I'm normal, anyway."

"Well, as much fun as this tea party is, it's getting very bright out and I don't fancy sitting in this tin can all day," Spike complained.

"I have to go free Oz! A-and we have class today," Willow reminded.

Buffy groaned. "Right. Class. College. I almost forgot. Guess it's time to break up the troops. There's tunnel access nearby. Faith, you know where it is. Everyone else, we'll meet up later. Crisis averted!"

They all moved toward the exit, but Giles put a firm hand on Spike's shoulder. "I believe I remember the location of the sewers. I'll direct Spike. Faith, you must be tired."

Making a face, Spike didn't even bother trying to get free of Giles's grip. Faith wanted to protest, but knew this was one battle she wasn't going to win.

"I could definitely do with some sleep," she said, flippantly.

Spike gave a small wave. "See you later, Slayer."

Tired, but buoyant from their successes, the gang left for their respective homes.

* * *

Angel paced in his room with a few bags packed by his feet. It hadn't taken long to gather his best weapons. It didn't help that he was impatient to leave and get this over with. The prospect of seeing Giles and the rest of the Scooby Gang filled him with an anxiety that made it impossible to stand still.

He could feel himself beginning to plunge head long into a darkness-filled spiral of depression, thinking about how much happiness he found in Sunnydale and how quickly it had been ripped away. She didn't deserve to die. He had lived too many years. Nothing in this world was fair. Justice? It didn't exist. The final word rested in the Powers and they disgusted him.

This was it. He could try to serve justice and protect the innocent, but to what purpose? Why bother when the most deserving innocent of them all fell even when he gave everything he had?

This was the last one. The Powers had gone too far this time. They thought he was ready to face his past, to accept the reality of this new world without Her. Thought it was time for him to get over his brooding. They'd given him a hundred years when he regained his soul, how could the death of it merit so few?

Well they judged wrong. Their warrior was not as strong as they thought. If he didn't fall during the battle, he'd face the sunrise.

Angel picked up two of the three bags, leaving his clothes behind. He wouldn't need them after this.

* * *

In case there are any amazing, wonderful fans out there who aren't aware, the BTVS Score is out. I'm talking about music composed by Christophe Beck (the man behind Buffy and Angel's theme song) from seasons 2-5 and it is seriously inspiring. It inspired me to dig through all sorts of crap to find this gem of a chapter. It was jumbled, but completed--I just couldn't find it. I know, it's a poor excuse for 7 months of not updating, but I'm finishing up the next chapter to make up for it.

In any case, I wanted to thank ALL of you who have stayed with the story this long (has it really been over two _years?_) and I want to publically declare that I cherish every single review I get. Even if it's short. Even if it's misspelled or incoherent (not to say any of them have been). The point is, I cannot tell you how much it means to me that you actually took the time to type anything at all. So **THANK YOU!** all you reviewers out there, you make my day. Those occasional reviews that trickle in, even when it appears I've fallen into a coma, are the ones that keep me writing this story. But I'm talking to all of you. One of you more than others. You know who I'm talking about. I'll try my damnest to make quitting the fanfiction world impossible.

So. I'll try to update sooner than...April? It shouldn't take too long--it's mostly written, I think. And the end is in sight. Don't worry. The way it's coming along, it will be almost as exciting to read as it is to write. So. Make a poor fanfiction writer's life and **REVIEW!!**


	16. Closing In

Riley stumbled into the faint glow of dawn, still in a daze over the pandemonium that ensued over the last few minutes. He let out a grunt and adjusted Graham's bulk over his shoulder.

Since waking up, everything had been so chaotic and _fast_. Riley focused on his thoughts, trying to ignore the stiffness in his entire body.

Faith was the Slayer. The one girl in the entire world with super human powers capable of giving everything vampires inflicted on others. And more, apparently, Riley thought wryly, looking at the swaying limbs of his friend. She must have punched him with enough force to break through a wall. It certainly wasn't stopped by a top-of-the-line helmet that cost the taxpayers a few thousand dollars.

Each.

Wouldn't Walsh be thrilled to hear about their less-than-adequate equipment?

Hos—Spike was a vampire on the side of good, and despite some hostilities, Buffy and the old Brit seemed to accept him.

And Buffy. Well, she was one confusing girl. Riley hardly noticed the weight of his friend or the pain shooting through his frame. He plodded on, finding his way back to the Lowell House by autopilot.

Buffy wasn't the damsel in distress he'd imagined, but neither was she a super hero like Faith. She knew how to take care of herself and he'd be damned if that didn't make him like her more.

* * *

Faith was tired. She'd been up all night with that Initiative fiasco, with the werewolf and all the resulting drama…it was exhausting. It didn't help that she hadn't exactly been getting a full night's sleep for the past week or so. A certain peroxide blonde might have had something to do with that.

The slayer yawned and stretched lazily. She needed a nap ASAP. Smiling sleepily as the rising sun lapped gently at her face, Faith frowned when a familiar itch nudged the back of her mind. "What in the…a vamp?" she whispered. Faith looked at the sun in confusion. "What?!"

She followed the pull, coming to a hill by the old Crawford Mansion. Faith made no noise as she ascended over the ridge. Gripping her stake tightly, Faith peered over the top. She had to squint; the sun was directly behind a cross-legged figure.

She jumped when he spoke. "Slayer. Come to stake me?"

Faith finally recognized him as her mysterious savior from the other night. And she didn't miss the gentle amusement in his voice.

"I thought you were a vamp," she muttered, practically stomping the rest of the way. Not that she was standing next to him, Faith could see his palms rested lightly on his knees and his eyes were closed. She didn't notice a strange green gem ring on one finger, nor the silver claddagh on another, so she had no way of knowing Angel had dug up the Gem of Amara for what he vowed would be his last battle.

His chest rumbled in a noise of acknowledgment, but he said nothing.

Faith crossed her arms and stubbornly refused to initiate the conversation. After a few minutes of complete silence, Faith started to fidget, jealous of this stranger's ability to obtain such complete peace. She had no idea that the feelings running inside Angel were anything but peaceful.

Faith let out an annoyed breath and asked, "So what's your name? If you're going to be setting up shop, I think I ought to know that much."

"Are you ready?"

Faith was startled by his complete non-sequiter. "What?"

Angel opened his eyes and Faith sucked in a breath. Whoever he was, he had the most intense eyes she'd ever seen.

"Are you ready? You know all about the government plot, right?" Angel asked with a small frown. He never did get the details from Doyle.

Faith's eyebrows furrowed. "You mean the Initiative?"

"Names are pointless here," Angel said impatiently. "Either you know about the threat or you don't. Ask Willy for some details. You'll be able to tell the second you see him if he's got something he thinks is worth telling."

Faith nodded mindlessly, surprised that he knew so much about Sunnydale. He _did_ say he'd lived here in the past, but facing proof of his familiarity was still strange.

In one astonishingly fluid movement, he stood up and walked to the opposite edge of the ridge.

He hesitated a moment, clearly wanting to leave in an appropriately mysterious fashion, but something held him back.

"Tell…" he paused, his back facing her. "Tell Giles I'll be watching."

He was about to jump down when Faith blurted, "Wait!"

He stilled all movement.

"I…" Faith wished he'd turn around. It made her feel extremely uncomfortable talking to his back. "Is there a name that goes with the message?"

He seemed to let out a silent sigh of concession. His back was bowed as if he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. In a voice almost too quiet to hear he said, "Angel."

He jumped down and was gone.

* * *

"Buffy!"

Buffy turned around to find Willow stuffing her book and notes into her bag, rushing to catch her. She waited patiently as the redhead scrunched her otherwise pristine notes into her backpack. "Buffy!" Willow called breathlessly, not looking up from her bag.

Struggling to keep a straight face, Buffy waited until Willow was just a few feet away and said, "Yeah?"  
Willow jumped and looked up, pulling her crumpled notes out of her bag in surprise. "Eep! I mean, hi! Um…" she looked at the papers in her hand. "Could you…"

"I'll wait," Buffy said, holding back a smile.

"Good. Thanks." Willow organized her things and zipped up her backpack efficiently. "So, I was thinking about that…" she dropped her voice to just above a whisper. "…spell? If you had time today, maybe we could…go over it with Ms. Calendar or something. Just to make sure we have all the materials and we can get started as soon as possible."

Buffy was surprised. "What about Oz? We're still on Wolf Watch tonight."

"I thought yesterday was the full moon," Willow said. "Oh, but, three days of the month. I forgot. I…I haven't really talked to Oz." She slung her backpack over her shoulder and together they walked out of the classroom.

"You have to talk to him sometime, Willow," Buffy said. She guided them towards the Espresso Pump knowing they could sit down and talk there.

Willow fidgeted nervously, pulling on the hem of her shirt. "I know, but how am I supposed to start that conversation? Just go up to him and say, 'Hey. So, you're a werewolf, what's that like?' I don't think so."

Buffy shrugged. "Well no, that's not what you really want to ask him."

They put their conversation on hold as they entered the Espresso Pump and ordered drinks. Finding a nice, private spot, they threw down their bags and relaxed into overstuffed chairs.

"I don't know what to ask him," Willow admitted, frowning at the small table that separated her from Buffy. "This is big, you know? I mean, all of a sudden, it's like, I guess I don't have to worry about telling my mother he's a musician. Werewolf would probably freak her out a lot more."

Buffy shook her head. "No. But that's not what you really want to ask him," she repeated taking a cautious sip of her mocha.

Willow stared at the small table separating her from Buffy. "I don't know what I want to ask him. There's so _much_ to ask I don't even know where to begin."

Buffy thought back to when she first found out Angel was a vampire. Even then, with all her conflicting emotions, when she was just starting to define herself as the Slayer, not knowing if her…if the guy she was crushing on in a major way was evil or not, she still knew exactly what single question mattered most.

"Yes you do," Buffy said quietly, looking at the pale face of her old friend.

The redhead wouldn't meet her eyes. She stared down at her cup. "Am I going to lose him?" she mumbled. Her eyes flicked to Buffy's face before they darted around the room. "That's terrible, isn't it? I mean, he's going through this really difficult crisis--I mean, he's a _werewolf_--and all I want to know is how this affects me."

There was a moment of silence as Buffy took another sip. Willow was lost in thought. Finally, Buffy sighed. "Just talk to him about it like any other issue. It won't do any good if you guess what he's thinking. It might lead to, oh, hunting him down with a crossbow and nearly getting shot in the kneecaps," Buffy said with forced cheer.

That startled Willow out of her stupor. She couldn't help the smile on her face. "But you did see him with your mom that one time," she reminded.

"Yeah…"

Willow recognized the all-too-familiar look on Buffy's face. A bittersweet sadness hovered around her friend much too heavily. "Oh, but…we never got to talking about the spell!" Willow cried, trying to distract Buffy from gloomy thoughts. "We should talk to Ms. Calendar and get supplies as soon as possible."

* * *

Faith blinked a few times. Then her brain slowly reconnected with her body. "WHAT?!"

She rushed to the side of the hill, but far below, the courtyard was empty. Angel was nowhere to be found.

"But…" Faith struggled, trying to piece it all together. He was sitting in sunlight! He was right there, with the sitting! And the sun! How…?

Faith tried to calm her mind babbling. She took a deep breath and on the exhale said, "Okay. So. Now what?"

I find out if that guy was telling the truth, Faith reasoned.

So who would know? Giles.

For some reason, she had a feeling Giles would take this news pretty hard. So not Giles, then. Who else? Faith frowned, walking down, her eyes peeled for any sign of Angel. He disappeared off her Slayer sense entirely.

Suddenly it came to her. Willy! She could find out more about what An—he said and find out if he really was who he claimed. Determined to get to the bottom of this, Faith set off towards Willy's.

When she got there, the sun was officially overhead and the residents of Sunnydale were starting their day.

Ignoring the prominent "CLOSED" sign, Faith walked in, happy to see Willy sweeping the floor, his back turned.

"Can't you read? We're—oh. F-Faith. I-it's good to see ya, kid." Willy stuttered in surprise. Remembering something he quickly swept the small pile of dust under the nearest dingy booth. "Hey! I've been meanin' to talk to ya! I got a little information from an 'ol buddy of mine. I learned a little something about some government organization."

Faith watched him carefully. "An old friend? Who? What did he look like?"

Willy started. He tells her about this government bit and she wants to know a source? "I-He's, I can't reveal that. It would hardly inspire a lotta trust in me, but the guy's legit. I-I swear!"

Faith narrowed her eyes, but didn' think he was talking about Angel. He knew better than to keep information like _that_ from them. "Alright, Tell me what you know."

Willy moved behind the bar, casually wiping a glass with a not-so-clean rag. "Hey. Information like this don't come cheap. We're talking top secret, here. It cost me a pretty penny to get my hands on news like this.

Losing her patience, Faith growled and picked Willy up by the collar of his shirt, her tall form easily reaching over the bar. "Listen, Willy. I'm really tied and I don't have any time for your dumb games. Tell me what you know or you'll need to pay for a new face!"

She could practically smell his fear. "Okay! Okay! C'mon Slayer, you know I always help you out in a pinch!" He held his hands up in surrender, leaning back as far as he could.

Faith gave him another jerk, to make sure he knew she was serious, then let him go. Willy let out a loud breath and tugged hi shirt down. "Man, Slayer. Ya didn' thave to choke me. Look at this shirt!" He held out a large rip.

Faith started back, nonplussed.

Unnerved by the look in her eyes and seeing the dark circles under them, Willy got right to the point. "So, these scientist guys have been doing experiments on supernaturals. Demons, vampires—any thin' they can get their hands on. Then they're gonna jigsaw all the pieces together."

Faith's eyes went wide. What the hell? "How far along are they?" she asked seriously.

Willy scratched his neck. "I dunno. My buddy couldn't get too close. That's all I know."

Faith gave him a sidelong look and clenched her fists. She really wanted to hit someone and all the vampires were out for the day. "Are you telling the truth, Willy? Are you sure you're not leaving anything out?"

Willy knew a threat when he heard it. "Yeah! Yeah! I swear! I don't know anythin' else."

Faith relaxed her arm. "Alright." She paused for a moment. "What do you know about Angel?"

"Angel?" Willy looked surprised and like he was secretly trying to figure out how to use this to his advantage. "Oh, yeah! Angel! Me an' him went way back. We were practically brothers! What ya wanna know? Big, dark, broody guy. Liked the O pos."

Big, dark, broody. So far so good.

"What did he look like?"

Willy scratched his chin. "Angel? It's been such a long time. Years."

Faith rolled her eyes. "Willy…"

"Y'know, it's all comin' back to me. Yeah. I'm remembering better now," Willy said nervously. "Angel, yeah. He uh…he had dark hair, dark eyes, pretty big guy. I'm not much for poetry, but he had a kind of dark…ness to him."

Faith thought back to the times she'd seen him. "Does he have kind of spiky hair? Really broad shoulders?"

"Yeah," Willy nodded, still confused about the current line of questioning. "Yeah. I remember somethin' like that. But uh…" Willy hesitated. The tone of his voice snapped Faith back to the present.

"What?"

Willy fidgeted. "Y'know he's uh…Angel's dead, kid."

Faith got this strange look on her face. "Yeah. So I heard." She shook it off. "Thanks Willy. Always fun."

She left and Willy sagged against the bar. "What was _that_ all about?" he wondered.

* * *

Cordelia wrung her hands, staring at Doyle's prone form. She'd spent the last hour dragging him as carefully as she could to his bed, but not once did he stir encouragingly.

"Oh God," Cordelia whispered. "Doyle, I'm so sorry. Please wake up." The former Prom queen had never felt more guilty in her life. All he ever did was tease her in that annoying Irish way of his and what did she go and do? She put him into a coma! The first genuinely nice guy she'd met in this city and she turned him into a vegetable.

At least she'd put him in his own bed. Cordelia paced around the room. Should she maybe call the hospital? It's just she knew neither she nor her Irish roommate could afford it. But she couldn't just stand here, feeling anxious. Maybe…Cordelia bit her nail, then pulled it away, hating the taste of her nail polish. Maybe someone at work? He just got back from a case, he said. Maybe there was someone at work she could call!

Buoyed by her success, Cordelia temporarily forgot she had no idea where Doyle worked. "Something about a PI firm…" she thought out loud. At least she knew that much, but she didn't know the name or the company. Where would Doyle keep an address or phone number?

Cordelia looked around the bedroom, seeing nothing but dirty laundry and…more dirty laundry. Cordelia wrinkled her nose. What a pig! Focusing on the problem at hand, she contemplated Doyle for a second. He didn't seem like the type to keep an address book.

"More like a list of people you owe money to," Cordelia snorted. She was back to pacing the room. "What about…a business card? Cordelia grasped at the idea and went through his end table. Nothing but aspirin and half empty liquor bottles. Shutting the small drawer in exasperation, Cordelia sat down heavily on the bed, next to Doyle.

Absently, she rested a hand on his chest. The shirt underneath her palm rose and fell in a soothing rhythm, reminding her that he was at least alive. She found herself rubbing small circles on the coarse material, to calm her nerves as much as help him.

"Oh, Doyle," she mumbled, tears forming in her eyes. "I didn't mean for this to happen. I swear! I just…" she stopped talking as her long fingers encountered stiff resistance. Looking over, she half expected Doyle to give her a silly grin and laugh at her concern, but he was still unconscious. What her fingers had found instead was a small rectangle of card stock in his shirt pocket. Hope leapt up in her throat. A business card!

Carefully, she maneuvered the card out of his pocket and flipped it over to read. "Allen Francis Doyle. Detective. Angel Investigations. 310…" Cordelia gasped and ran to the phone, dialing the numbers on the card.

Nervously listening to the dial tone, she noticed writing on the back, in a messy, honest script that must have been Doyle's. "Messenger for the Powers That Be…" she said quietly. She jumped when a girl with a Texan accent answered the phone. "Angel Investigations. I'm sorry, but the office is closed right no—"

Cordelia didn't wait for the girl to hang up on her. "Listen, this is an emergency. I'm Cordelia Chase, Doyle's roommate, and I—there was an accident and he's lying in a coma and I need you to help him!"

Silence on the other end. "What happened? Is he…are you at his apartment right now?" the girl asked, concern and panic in her voice.

"Yes, we're at our—I mean, his…our…the apartment. He's not bleeding or anything, I just think…maybe he had too much to drink and I was yelling at him and I—he hit his head and I carried him to his room and put in on his bed, but he hasn't moved or woken up and I didn't know who to call! So I found his business card an—"

A clipped British accent interrupted her tirade. "Alright, Miss…_whispering_….Chase. My name is Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, one of Doyle's colleagues. You say you're at his apartment?"  
Cordelia took a deep breath. "Yes."

"Alright," Wesley said in a calm voice. "The office is a little…chaotic at the moment, so it will be just me stopping by. I'm no doctor, but I'll see what I can do."

Cordelia nodded. "Thank you. Y-you don't have to hurry or anything. It's not like he'll be going anywhere." She laughed humorlessly. "And like I said. There's no b-blood. He just…hit his head."

Deep chuckling from the other line. "Don't worry, there's not much that can get through Irish's thick skull," a deeper male voice said. It occurred to Cordelia that she was on speaker phone.

"Ignore him. I'm leaving right now," Wesley said.

"Yeah," the other voice cut in. "He looks like an uppity British in need of a shave."

"Leaving now."

"Hey, I like it…"

The voices got fainter and then there was the tell tale click. They'd hung up. Now all she had to do was wait.

She walked back to Doyle's room and sighed.

* * *

Scant seconds after Wesley knocked, a beautiful brunette with an unmistakably worried face pulled it open. "Wes, right? Come on, he's in his room."

She practically pushed him into the apartment and slammed the door shut. Rushing past him, the girl was already sitting next to Doyle when Wesley walked in.

"…and when he fell I didn't know if I should call the hospital, but neither of us has a lot of money and I didn't know if Angel Investigations has some sort of insurance policy or something so I called you when I found his business card." Cordelia babbled nervously, watching anxiously as Wesley bent over Doyle. He checked his friend's pulse and took note of his faintly bluish skin.

Wesley worked for long, silent minutes and Cordelia had to stop herself from talking or pacing. She hated this! She hated feeling so guilty and worried.

"It's just like him to go and pass out from a little tap on the head," Cordelia thought out loud, determined to place all the guilt on Doyle. "Who knows what he was drinking or eating or not eating when he was gone! I could probably catch something just by sitting next to him," she said, sounding and feeling more like her usual uncaring self.

Wesley looked over the oblivious woman who talked to herself. It would figure that Doyle would get himself a roommate like…what was her name again?

Well, now that he'd seen Doyle's condition for himself, he was convinced a forced change into his demonic half would flush whatever toxin were floating around his bloodstream.

"Well, er…um…Miss…I think—"

"—it's Cordelia."

Wesley fumbled, embarrassed. "Ah, yes. Of course. Cordelia, I think he'll be alright. I'll just make a call to the team to see if there's...that is, if we have…insurance." Already he had a list of books for the team to check. "I'm sure we'll have him up and stumbling in no time at all. I'll just go out to make a quick phone call."

"Really? He'll be alright?" Cordelia asked, feeling relieved despite her shaky belief that all this was caused by Doyle himself.

Wesley smiled kindly. "Yes. I believe so, anyway. But I need to make this call."

He left to talk on in the living room. Now that she was assured of Doyle's condition, she could focus on other things. She watched Wesley as he paced in the living room. With an expert eye, Cordelia decided Wesley was pretty hot.

He had that sexy librarian thing going for him. And she'd always been a sucker for foreign guys with smooth accents. Wesley's clipped, studied British accent was a definite turn on.

Yet, even while she was thinking all this, she found herself looking at a less handsome, more endearing rogue lying unconscious on his bed.

* * *

Faith's heart was racing and it had nothing to do with the breakneck speed she was running towards UC Sunnydale.

Angel was _alive!_ And judging by the sunrise this morning, he was either human or…well she didn't know _what_, but that wasn't the point! Giles was the brains; he could figure all that stuff out. And right now, she really, _really_ needed to tell Buffy.

Panting at the edge of campus, Faith tried to remember where Buffy might be. Hundreds of students milled around, annoying her with their cheery smiles and generally looking well-rested.

"Argh! Buffy, where the hell are you?!" she whispered furiously, scanning the throngs of students, hoping Buffy might be hidden somewhere in their ranks.

"Um…Faith?"

Faith whirled around and almost groaned when she found Riley Finn standing nervously behind her. Terrific. Just what her day needed.

"Riley," she greeted unenthusiastically. Giles' warning to be nice floated unbidden to her weary mind.

"I, uh," Riley looked around nervously. "I didn't know you went to school here."

Faith didn't laugh, but couldn't help sneering. "I don't. I'm looking for Buffy."

Riley immediately seemed more interested. "Oh! She's in class right now, but it gets out in thirty minutes if you want to wait. I can take you there if you want."

Faith couldn't believe her luck. Finally! She got a break. "Oh! Yeah. Um. Thanks, Riley."

He grinned a very dopey grin. "No problem. "

The blonde led her on campus. Faith snuck a look at him and smiled wickedly. "So, Finn. How exactly did you know B was in class? You're her TA, right? Shouldn't you be in class, too?"

Riley ducked his head in embarrassment. "Well yeah, but, I mean, that is, she's not in psych right now…"

Faith sniggered to herself. Too bad. Now that Angel's back, you haven't got a shot in the world, Fish Boy.

They walked into one of the many buildings, the narrow hallway making Faith feel even more claustrophobic than when she was surrounded by half the students of UC Sunnydale. It took a moment for her to realize Riley was still blustering.

"…distant, but I just have to give her time. She seems pretty withdrawn from school in general," he said.

"Uh huh." Faith was bored and starting to feel dizzy from all the turns they'd been taking. At least there weren't any students pushing her against the dingy white walls. "What class did you say B was in?"

Riley stopped and in one motion stuck her with a needle.

"I didn't."

Faith looked at her arm in disbelief. "You son of a…of…" Her eyes rolled back as she fell into a dead faint.

Riley dragged her a few feet to the lab's secret entrance. He pulled out a walkie-talkie. "It's Agent Finn. I need Walsh, now."

A moment later, static came over the speaker. Riley struggled to move Faith and still keep his grip on the walkie-talkie. "What is it, Agent Finn? I am in the middle of some threshold tests." Her irritation was obvious.

Riley swallowed hard. "Sorry, ma'am, but I've managed to subdue and capture the Slayer."

There was complete radio silence for a few seconds. When Walsh came back online, her excitement was palpable. "Where is she?"

Riley cleared his throat. "Only a few meters from the lab's Rolfe entrance. I wasn't sure how long she would be out, so I thought I would alert you ahead of time."

"_Excellent_ work, Agent Finn. Bring her to Lab 2. It will be prepped by the time you get there."

Riley barked a quick affirmative, and pocketed the receiver.

Down in the labs, Walsh allowed herself a cold smile. The _Slayer_. "Perfect."

* * *

Frantic footsteps rang down the hallway and Buffy wanted to scream in frustration. Since going to the library to meet Ms. Calendar, there had been interruption after interruption. Soon after arriving, Oz came in, wanting to talk to Giles, but ended up talking to Willow for a few hours instead.

Luckily, it seemed like their most urgent issues were resolved. Oz seemed almost cheery as he was locked up and Willow was bubblier than ever. But now, when they were finally able to sit down and really discuss what they needed and how this spell was going to work, someone with a crisis heading down the hall.

Stomping over to the double doors of the library, Buffy threw them open. "What?" she snapped.

If Spike, standing outside the library about to storm in, was surprised by the warm welcome, he didn't show it. "Is Faith here?"

Buffy stared dumbly. "What?"

Spike looked like he wanted to throttle her. "Faith! Is she here?" he growled.

Slowly, Buffy said, "No…"

To her surprise, Spike growled fought to control his vampiric ridges. "Bloody HELL!"

Buffy didn't move, surprised by the force of Spike's emotions. "What's going on?"

Spike snarled, his blue eyes glowing gold for a moment. "I don't _know_! I've been lookin' round all of Sunnyhell for her, but she's disappeared from the bloody planet!" Spike kicked the linoleum floor ferociously.

Buffy was starting to worry, but tried to keep calm. "Were you supposed to meet her?"

Spike shook his head. "No, but…I can't find her _anywhere_, Buffy. Something's wrong."

Buffy looked back at Willow and Jenny who were watching with rapt interest and a little fear. She sighed and turned back to Spike. "Alright, let's go." She let the doors swing shut and they walked briskly into the night. "Do you know where she might be?"

Spike shook his head, feeling helpless and hating it. "Not a clue. I checked her place, an' anywhere she's likely t'go."

"Great." Buffy muttered. "Alright." She walked faster and with purpose.

"Oi! Where you off to?" Spike jogged to catch up, hope rising in his chest.

"My house. I need to call Giles."

Spike pointed the way they came. "Well, the closest phone…"

"That's Willow's house. I can't expect her to invite you in," Buffy explained.

"Don't trust me, Slayer?" Spike sneered.

Buffy laughed. "I'm inviting you into my house, aren't I?"

"If you wanted me all to yourself, you should have just said so," Spike leered.

Buffy made a face. "Don't make me sick. What does Faith see in you?"

A dark shadow passed over Spike's face. "Beats me. Ask her when you see her."

Buffy walked faster.

* * *

Buffy banged the phone back in its cradle. "Ugh! Giles doesn't know where she is either!"

Spike paced frantically, on the verge of panic. "This is great! Fucking _fantastic_. How could she just disappear like that? And how can the Slayer and her faithful pets not have some way of finding her? I scoured all over this bloody town for a decent hole to hide and you wankers found me every time!"

"That was different!" Buffy objected.

Spike ignored her. "But now, when it really matters, you're useless, the lot of you!"

Frustrated, Buffy jumped up and yelled, "That was _different_! And it's not like we've got the who's who list of secret hiding places! It took us ages to decide on using an empty warehouse last night! And—" Buffy stopped abruptly. "Willow," she whispered.

"Eh? What's Red got to do with any 'o this? We need to find _Faith_. Tall. Brunette. A little on the kinky side…" Spike reminded.

Buffy shook her head. "No, I mean, Willow found us. She…she probably did some kind of spell!" Buffy looked at Spike, hope shining in her eyes.

Spike tried unsuccessfully to mask his excitement. "Well? What are you waiting for—ring 'er!"

Buffy leapt to the phone and dialed Willow's number. Even after all these years, she still remembered it and she was infinitely grateful at the moment.

No one picked up.

Buffy was on the verge of swearing and throwing the phone, when she remembered Willow was at the library with Jenny, waiting for her to come back so they could start the spell.

"Oh."

"What, what?!" Spike asked, frantic.

Buffy didn't look at him, too embarrassed to face his teasing. "Nothing."

She dialed the library.

"Hello?"

Buffy breathed a sigh of relief. "Jenny, it's Buffy. I need to talk to Willow."

* * *

Phew. For some reason that was a _beast_ to type up. Of course, that would be a lot easier if people started **REVIEW**ing. No, really, I would like to thank the people who did review last chapter, and the two hundred and a half or so who read this far. Hee, it makes me feel all popular and important-like. I hope you're enjoying the story and I really want to get this done. It would be a small kind of accomplishment, but in a really big way.

And just for the record, the current state of affairs is KILLING ME. It's probably worse for me, too because I have no one to blame but myself for all the NOT Buffy Angel happiness that's going on here. Anyway. Please, please, _please_ if at all possible reivew. It would really help the process and my general level of happy.


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